Never Forgive Never Forget
by Lilliebug
Summary: The story of Lorette Finch, a girl who was rescued by Benjamin Barker and how she gets mixed up in the demon barber's plans when he returns 15 years later. A mix of Les Miserables and Sweeney Todd respectively.
1. At the End of the Day

Salisbury Street, London, December 23rd, 1830, 5:15 P.M.

A man.

A man in a tidy waste coat and a green necktie walks alone, a package tucked securely under his arm. He walks quickly, holding the package tightly, with his eyes forward, not wanting to make any form of contact with those on the street. Men, women, even children, who'd steal anything they could from him if he had the chance. Making a point of not looking any of them in the eye, he looked around as he walked. He saw women huddled up against buildings, holding their crying children in their arms, some of whom he believed were too young to have to see such times and live as they were. There were men begging, there were men working whatever job they could to earn two pennies a day just to feed their starving wives and children, or saving up to one day make something of it, even though they knew it'd never happen. Some were standing by a window of the inn on Salisbury Street, peeking in to see the people inside enjoying their time with each other, drinking and eating by a nice fire. Not being able to bear anymore of this, the man turned his gaze and continued walking. The people on the street behind him eyed him as he went by.

POOR: "At the end of the day you're another day older, and that's all you can say for the life of the poor. It's a struggle, it's a war, and there's nothing that anyone's giving, one more day standing about, what is it for? One day less to be living. At the end of the day you're another day colder, and the shirt on your back doesn't keep out the chill."

As he walked, people watched him, and he felt a twinge of guilt, but knew that he mustn't let them stay on his mind.

POOR: "And the righteous hurry past, they don't hear the little ones crying, and the winter is coming on fast, ready to kill. One day nearer to dying. At the end of the day there's another day dawning, and the sun in the morning is waiting to rise. And the waves crash on the sand like a storm that could break any second, there's a hunger on the land, there's a reckoning that needs to be reckoned, and there's going to be hell to pay at the end of the day!"

He slowed pace as he got farther away from the main crowd. He past a factory where the workers were slowly lining up to get their pay from the foreman. He couldn't help but hear what they were saying as he walked by them.

FOREMAN: "At the end of the day you get nothing for nothing. Sitting flat on your bum doesn't buy any bread."

A man in line spoke up against him.

MAN: "There are children back at home!" His comrades behind him joined in.

MEN: "And the children have got to be fed, and you're lucky to be in a job!"

WOMAN: "And in a bed! And we're counting our blessings." A woman piped in. The woman behind her was more concerned about talking with her friends than with the arguing going on.

WOMAN 2: "Have you seen how the foreman was fuming today, with his terrible breath and his wandering hands?"

WOMAN 3: "It's because little Fantine won't give him his way. Take a look at his trousers you'll see where he stands."

ALL: "At the end of the day it's another day over. With enough in your pocket to last for a week. Pay the landlord, pay the shop, keep on grafting as long as you're able, keep on grafting till you drop or it's back to crumbs off the table. You've got to pay your way at the end of the day!"

The man stopped as he watched a woman snatch a letter out of the hands of another woman.

WOMAN: "And what have we here, little innocent sister? Come on Fantine, let's have all the news!" she read the letter as quickly as possible. "Dear Fantine you must send us more money, your child needs a doctor, there's no time to lose!" she began taunting the other woman, Fantine, who began to fight her for the letter. A man who was clearly of higher status than them all walked up and separated them.

MAYOR: "What is this shouting all about? Will someone tear these two apart! This is a factory, not a circus. Now, come on ladies, settle down! I run a business of repute I am the mayor of this town! I look to you to sort this out and be as patient as you can - " he said to the foreman.

FOREMAN: "Now someone say how this began!"

WOMAN: "At the end of the day she's the one who began it! There's a kid that she's hiding in some little town. There's a man she has to pay, you can guess how she picks up the extra, you can bet she's earning her keep sleeping around, and the boss wouldn't like it!"

The woman, Fantine, stood tall and calm as this all went on. The man in the tidy waste coat watched from a safe distance.

FANTINE: "It's true there is a child and the child's my daughter. And her father abandoned us, leaving us flat. Now she lives with an innkeeper man and his wife, and I pay for the child, what's the matter with that?"

WOMEN: "At the end of the day she'll be nothing but trouble! And there's trouble for all when there's trouble for one! While we're earning our daily bread she's the one with her hand in the butter, so send the slut away or we're all gonna end in the gutter, and it's us who'll have to pay at the end of the day!"

FOREMAN: "I might've known the bitch could bite, I might've known the cat had claws, I might've guessed your little secret. Ah yes, the virtuous Faustine! Who keeps herself so pure and clean you'd be the cause, I have no doubt of any trouble hereabout. You play a virgin in the light but need no urgin' in the night."

WOMEN: "She's been laughing at you while she's having her men, she'll be nothing but trouble again and again, you must sack the girl today!"

The foreman nodded to get all the women to stop shouting, then spoke loud and clear over the crowd.

"Right my girl. On your way!"


	2. Castle on a Cloud

Back on Fleet Street, as the sun began to slowly set, the man in the tidy waste coat was putting on his gloves and scarf and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" A soft voice said from behind him. He turned to see his wife, his beautiful wife, with her golden yellow hair and bright hazel eyes, her pale yet rosy skin, and a wonderful smile not yet apparent on her face.

"I know it's three or four miles away, but I'm going to the Thenardier's inn on Lanbury Street. The innkeeper wanted me to work for him, but wanted to meet with me first, which is of course recommended. I'll be back before morning."

"I don't like the idea, Mr. Barker. You know the people on Lanbury Street - " she said, walking up from behind him and putting her hands on his shoulders.

"I'll be home before morning." he said, kissing her on the cheek. He left and she smiled.

* * *

The man walked with some pep in his step down Lanbury Street, even though he had gone more than a couple of miles. He had the hint of a smile on his face, excited for a new job, and hoping to make a name for himself as the best barber in town. He stopped and looked around eagerly for the sign that told him where this particular inn was. He saw it hanging a few buildings away and smiled, but stopped again when he heard a child, then noticed the little girl singing to herself as she was sweeping the steps leading up to the inn's front door.

GIRL: "There is a castle on a cloud, I like to go there in my sleep, aren't any floors for me to sweep, not in my castle on a cloud. There is a lady all in white, holds me and sings a lullaby, she's nice to see and she's soft to touch, she says, 'Morley, I love you very much'..I know a place where no one's lost, I know a place where no one cries. Crying at all is not allowed, not in my castle on a cloud..."

"Are you alright?" Mr. Barker said as he walked up to her. She looked at him, with big, brilliantly blue eyes that were clouded over. She was pale and thin, and her clothes were nothing short of rags. Fear was spread all over her. She merely stared at him, and he didn't know if she were confused or afraid as she clutched a broom more than twice as long as she was tall, and her tiny callused hands shook without any apparent reason, and he just assumed she was cold for she wore no gloves. Suddenly, there was a heavy slamming noise from inside.

"Oh help! I think I hear them now, and I'm nowhere near finished sweeping and scrubbing and polishing the floor!" She exclaimed. She forgot about him and hurried back to sweeping. There was the sound of a door opening quickly. "Oh it's her! It's Madame!" The door swung open and a tall horse faced woman, who was by no means an attractive specimen, smiled angrily at the child who had become a mere mouse before the large woman, who must've been no one but Madame Thenardier.

MME: "Now look who's here! The little madame herself! Pretending once again she's been 'so awfully good', better not let me catch you slacking! Better not catch my eye!" She said, grabbing the tiny child by the neck of her clothes,. "Ten rotten pounds your mother sends me, what's that going to buy?" She pushed the girl away and pointed to a pail at the foot of the steps. "Now take that pail, my little mademoiselle, and go draw some water from the well!" she shouted. The girl ran to put the broom away, her bare feet barely making any noise against the ground.

"We should have never taken you in in the first place. How stupid the things that we do! Like mother like daughter, scum of the street." Madame Thenardier said to herself as a girl a few years older than the first walked out from the inn, visibly much more well taken care of. She was smiling as she looked up at the woman, who was clearly her mother.

MME: "Eponine, come my dear, Eponine let me see you. You look very well in that new little blue hat. There's a little girl who knows how to behave, and she knows what to wear, and I say, thank heaven for that."

The girl Eponine, tugged on her mother's dress and pointed to the younger child emptying the collected rainwater out of the pail.

MME: "Still there, Lottie? Your tears will do you no good, I told you, fetch some water form the well in the wood!

LORETTE: "Please do not send me out alone, not in the darkness on my own."

MME: "Enough of that! Or I'll forget to be nice. You heard me ask for something and I never ask twice!" The woman gave the child a shove out the door, then finally noticed Mr. Barker standing a few yards away. She straightened up and her tone and expression changed completely.

"Can I help you sir?" She opened the door and he gave him a fake smile as she led him in.


	3. Master of the House

The woman showed Mr. Barker to the inn. The atmosphere changed dramatically once inside. There was an abundance of people, all talking and laughing, telling stories of little importance to each other. Most of them were drunk, and those who weren't were eating and slowly becoming drunk. As Madame Thenardier walked away, Mr. Thenardier walked up, a drunkard's smile on his face. He was taller than his wife in stature, but he wasn't to be considered thin. Though obviously older, he appeared much younger than his wife as well. He had a large noise and a bent up smile, his face reddened from alcohol. He wore a bright blue jacket that appeared as if it didn't previously belong to him, and a thick, stained leather apron. I small ledger was attached to him with some string.

THENARDIER: "Welcome, mister, sit yourself down, and meet the best innkeeper in town. As for the rest, all of 'em crooks, rooking their guests and cooking their books. Seldom do you see, honest men like me, a man of good intent, who's content to be - "

"But sir, understand, I'm not here to stay, I'm here for a job offering I believe you asked of me." Mr. Barker said calmly.

"Ah. Well then. Follow me, I suppose." Mr. Thenardier said, exposing a smile of crooked, discolored teeth.

THENARDIER: "Master of the house, doling out the charm, ready with a handshake and an open palm, tells a saucy tale , makes a little stir, customers appreciate a bon viveur!" As he walked, Mr. Barker in tow, he patted men on the backs and shook their hands,, and what not, making himself look like a great keeper. "Glad to do me friends a favor, doesn't cost me to be nice, but nothing gets you nothing everything has got a little price!" he took a coin from a woman as she handed it to him. "Master of the house, keeper of the zoo, ready to relieve 'em of a sou or two. Watering the wine, making up the weight, picking up their knick-knacks when they can't see straight. Everybody loves a landlord! Everybody's bosom friend! I do whatever pleases, Jesus! Won't I bleed them in the end!"

By now he had seemed to have forgotten about Mr. Barker and had joined his guests in partying. The barber, seeing what kind of company was kept here, began to make his way back to the door.

ALL: Master of the house, quick to catch yer eye, never wants a passerby pass him by!" A couple drinkers grabbed Mr. Barker and pulled him back into the crowd. "Servant to the poor, butler to the great, comforter, philosopher and lifelong mate! Everybody's boon companion, everybody's chaperone!"

THENARDIER: "But lock up your valises, Jesus, won't I skin you to the bone! Enter, mister, lay down your load, unlace your boots, rest from the road." He said, showing Mr. Barker to a table. "This weighs a ton, travel's a curse, but here we strive to lighten your purse." The innkeeper looked around suspiciously. "Here the goose is cooked, here the fat is fried, and nothing's overlooked till I'm satisfied!"

DRINKER: "Food beyond compare! Food beyond belief!"

THENARDIER: "Mix it in a mincer and pretend it's beef! Kidney of a horse, liver of a cat, filling up the sausages with this and that! Resident's are more than welcome, bridal suite is occupied, reasonable charges plus some little extras on the side!" He pulled out the tiny ledger and began jotting things down in it. "Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice, two percent for looking in the mirror twice. Here a little slice, there a little cut, three percent for sleeping with the window shut. When it comes to fixing prices, there are lots of tricks he knows. How it all increases, all them bits and pieces, Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!"

Madame Thenardier walked out and began talking and joking with some of her friends.

MME: "I used to dream that I would meet a prince, but God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since? Master of the house, isn't worth me spit, comforter, philosopher and lifelong shit! Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire, thinks he's quite a lover, but there's not much there...What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a louse? God knows how I've lasted living with this bastard in the house!" she said, causing all of her friends and anyone around her to burst out laughing, too drunk to even remember what she had said.

DRINKERS: "Master of the house!"

MME: "Master and a half!"

DRINKERS: "Comforter, philosopher,"

MME: "Ah don't make me laugh!"

DRINKERS: "Servant to the poor, butler to the great!"

MME: "Hypocrite and toady and inebriate!"

DRINKERS: "Everybody bless the landlord! Everybody bless his spouse! Everybody raise a glass!"

MME: "Raise it up the master's arse!"

ALL: "Everybody raise a glass to the master of the house!"

The crowd raised their mugs, shouting and cheering from stupid, drunken happiness, not one noticing that Mr. Barker has left.

* * *

He walks out onto the steps, putting his gloves back on, filled with disappointment. He heard a noise and looked up to see the young girl had just finished cleaning out the pail. She picked it up with both arms after wiping leftover tears from her eyes, and walked solemnly toward the back of the inn. He decided to follow her.

"Excuse me, miss."

"Please sir, I beg you to leave me go, for if you are seen talking to me it will mean bad things for the both of us." she said without even looking up at him.

"I promise you, we won't be seen. May I ask your name?" she stops and looks at him, pondering him for a moment before deciding to whether or not to answer.

"Lorette Finch." She said, as if proud of her title. "But they just call me Lottie."

"I'm Mr. Barker. It's a pleasure to meet you." He said while kneeling down to eye level with her, giving her a gentle smile. He held out his hand to her, and with great reluctance, she shook it with her trembling little hands. She quickly removed her hand from his and picked her bucket back up and continued on her way. "How old are you?"

"I just turned eseven." she mumbled. He stood back up and followed her over to a well, filled with surprise at her age and thinking that she was older. She heaved the pail up into the well and with a moldy aged rope lowered it into the watery abyss below. He helped her pull it back up, then accompanied her back to the inn.


	4. The Barber and the Fiddler

"How old are YOU?" the girl asked.

"24."

"That's old...where do you live?"

Mr. Barker rolled his eyes. He thought the girl wouldn't appreciate his company this much. "I live on Fleet Street. I'm a barber there. I live with my wife and daughter."

"You have a daughter? What's she like?" Lorette asked, clearly very excited.

"Well, she's much, much younger than you. She's just learning how to walk. But her name's Johanna."

"Johanna.." the child repeated to herself. "You're a barber?"

"Yes." he said blatantly.

"I'm a fiddler."

"Oh, are you?" he said, pretending to be more interested than he actually was. Before the conversation could go any further, the pair walked up to the inn, side by side, where Madame Thenardier was waiting impatiently. She looked as though she had a lot of things to say to the child, but kept her mouth shut for Mr. Barker was in her presence. She took the pail from Lorette without trouble and motioned for them to come inside, where they met up with Mr. Thenardier.

"Where you been?" he asked Lorette, who, around the man, walked with her head low and her hands fidgeting at her sides as if they were dogs with dominance problems.

"I was fetching water, sir." she said. She stood behind him and peered out from his large stature. After a few minutes of whispering with his wife, the child beneath him let out a loud, harsh cough, and he looked down at her in surprise, having just remembered she was there. He wrote something down again in his ledger and then pulled a piece of bread out of his apron pouch and handed it to her, then gestured for her to leave. She darted off without any reluctance.

* * *

Mr. Thenardier had offered Mr. Barker a room for the night at a rather low price, and he only accepted it because he had stayed much longer than he had hoped, though his wife wouldn't be happy with him. It was not as bad as he thought, it was pretty fair for the price. The only complaint was that he had trouble sleeping. After putting two and two together, he had come to the conclusion that Lorette was the daughter of the woman from the factory, Fantine, but he couldn't get the child off his mind. He had got up form his little bed and walked to the door, walking stiffly because of the contrast to his feet from the semi-warm bed to the cold, hard floor. Most of the guests had gone to sleep, but he knew the master and his family were still up. He could hear the low mumbling of the four of them from downstairs, Thenardier discussing something with his wife and their two daughters Eponine and Azelma bickering about something. Mr. Barker crept down the stairs, peeking around to see what Lorette was up to, hoping to ask her some questions. He stopped when he saw Thenardier sitting in the kitchen in an old wooden chair. His wife was washing mugs and other dishes, while their two daughters sat playing a game at the table. They didn't seem to notice little Lorette playing with an old, abandoned stuffed animal a few feet away. Mr. Barker stopped where he was, making sure he couldn't be seen and observed the bunch. He was a little astonished after waiting for a few minutes to see nothing really happen. None of them spoke to each other. But then, Lottie let out another sickly cough and grabbed the family's attention, the nine and twelve year olds in particular.

"Mama! She's playing with my cat!" the oldest exclaimed, immediately hopping from her chair to grab what was left of the old ratty stuffed cat from Lorette. The younger one, Azelma, joined her sister in taunting the seven year old. Their mother simply looked over to them and when they saw her face, the daughters returned to their game, the toy cat kept under close supervision on the table. Lorette merely sat in her corner for a few minutes before Mr. Thenardier put his ledger down on the table.

"Lottie!" he shouted. The girl trembled ad inched over to him, shrinking with every step, her head facing the ground but her big blue eyes looking up at her master. "Don't look at me like that, you done nothing wrong this time." he grumbled. "I want you to go check the port in the cellar. I got me a very important man coming tomorrow."

"Who?" Madame Thenardier piped up.

"None of your business!" he turned back to Lorette. "Why're you still here?"

"I'm afraid of the cellar, sir. May I have a light please?" she asked.

"Ha! Afraid she says. How old are you now? 9?"

"I'm 7, sir."

"Don't correct me." his arm snapped up and he pointed to the cellar door. She flinched as he did so in fear of being struck. "Be off!" she nodded and scurried off to the door.

"Her mother's been slacking with pay." his wife said to him once the door was shut.

"Who's mother?" Mr. Thenardier looked at her with surprise. His wife rolled her eyes and sat up a little straighter.

"Lottie. Lottie's mother hasn't been paying us much lately."

"I know." he said in a low voice.

"Did you ask her for more? The girl keeps getting "sicker" and I don't want to be paying for medicine." She returned to her dishes.

"Well maybe she wouldn't be so sick if you fed her more than bits of bread and moldy leftovers."

"Don't put this on me now! Tiny git like her, that's all she needs!"

Lottie came back covered in dust and cobwebs from the cellar, coughing violently.

"What's the matter with you now, eh?" Thenardier asked her. The girl tried to make out the words 'too much dust' but couldn't. She fell to her knees and her eyes became watery. Thenardier stood up, a smug grin on his face. He slowly walked over to Lorette and picked her up, actually making an act of pretending like he really cared. She shyed away from him, but didn't resist knowing that if she struggled in the great man's arms then she'd have to pay in some way or another that would leave her with a bruise or two. Thenardier's fake smile disappeared as she coughed some more. Mr. Barker realized that the innkeeper man wasn't doing this out of kindness but because he did not want to have to listen to the child. But the barber was still surprised by how gentle the master was being with the girl. He walked over to the counter, the little child in one arm and with the other he picked up a spoon and a bottle of something unrecognizable, for the label had worn off. He returned to his chair and set the girl on his lap. She watched his every move, checking to see how red his face was to determine how sober he was. He poured into the spoon a black, wine like substance from the bottle, then with his free hand gripped the nape of her neck roughly. Lorette protested and struggled but was nothing against the man as he managed to get the liquid in her mouth and then get her to swallow it. He let go of her and she shook as he screwed the cork back into the bottle. He looked at her and let out a low, menacing chuckle. She began to shake more as he reached his hand toward her and pat her roughly on the head, the pushed her off his lap.


	5. Mother's Death

~AN HOUR LATER~

Not being able to tolerate much more of this, Mr. Barker had gone to bed. So had the Thenardier's daughters and Madame Thenardier herself. Lorette had passed out at the table from the heavy effects the alcohol had on her. The innkeeper was going around putting out all the lights out, reading a letter as he did. He cocked an eyebrow as he went over it again, a look of mixed pity, disappointment and indifference on his face as he put the last light out. Fantine was dead.

* * *

Lorette woke early the next morning, before anyone else was up, feeling chilled and dizzy. She blinked and looked around to see if anyone else was up. She looked out the window to see the first bits of sun appearing over the city's horizon. She slid down from her seat at the table, looked at the clock to see 4:30 am, then went to start with her morning chores, hoping for a little more breakfast for getting all done early. She started by sweeping all the floors, though the stirred up dust did make her cough a little, then she took a rag and began dusting the dining room. When she finished, she refilled the lanterns with oil for later on in the evening, then wiped down all the tables and cleaned the ashes out of the fire place, trying to stifle her cough as she did so, even though becoming spotted with soot didn't help. She stopped for a moment to relax and think of what work she had left to do. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and rushed to find something else to do before she was beaten for not being productive.

* * *

Somewhere back on Fleet Street, Mrs. Barker sat in a chair, cradling her sleeping daughter. Mr. Barker was straightening up the things on his table.

"Penny for your thoughts. You haven't been speaking much lately. " she said. He stopped to think for a moment.

"There's this child. A young girl, who lives with the innkeeper man on Lanbury Street - "

"Is he her father?"

"No, he...takes care of her...I saw her mother on the street on my way home the other day. I over heard that she has to send the innkeeper money to take care of her child because of something to do with the father, I don't know. And it was the same inn I had to visit yesterday! I met the girl, and the man who watches over her, and it was awful."

"What do you mean by "awful", exactly?"

"She's forced to do all the work around the inn, she 's treated unfairly, like a slave almost. He used gin to get her to sleep. I wouldn't be surprised if I found out she's been beaten more than a few times either. I just wish people didn't have to live like that. Especially children."

"That's terrible...what if our Johanna had to go through that? The poor dear. How old is she?"

"Uh...eight, I believe. She's an adorable child too, she wouldn't hurt a fly. She has these great blue eyes that hold all the sadness in the world. And she plays the violin."

"She's so young..." Mrs. Barker said, looking out the window, thinking. Mr. Barker distracted himself with the things he was organizing on his table.

"I know what we shall do."

* * *

~THE PREVIOUS DAY~

Fantine was lying in a hospital bed, deliriously dreaming of her daughter.

FANTINE: "Lottie, it's turned so cold, Lottie it's past your bedtime. You've played the day away and soon it will be night. Come to me, Lottie, the light is fading. Don't you see the evening star appearing? Come to me and rest against my shoulder, how fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder. Hurry near, another day is dying, don't you hear? The winter wind is crying. There's a darkness that comes without a warning, but I will sing you lullabies and wake you in the morning..." She died.

* * *

Madame Thenardier wobbled down the stairs, her strawberry blonde hair looking just as tangled as yesterday. The first thing she was was Lorette sweeping, not knowing that was a chore that had been done hours ago and that the girl was doing to avoid getting in trouble. She looked around, secretly pleased that all the morning chores had been done, and that the child had even cleaned herself up and had gotten ready for the day. Madame Thenardier nodded, somewhat pleased.

"You see, Lottie? Nothing bad ever comes from hard work. Now you can have yer breakfast then get started with the laundry." she said. Excited, Lottie put the broom away and scurried to the kitchen to find a bowl and fork. She set them up on the table and sat and tried to hide her smile as Madame Thenardier poured her some old leftover oatmeal and gave her a small piece of bread. Eponine and Azelma came downstairs and walked into the kitchen, glaring at Lorette, trying to shoot down her happiness. The younger of the pair clutched the old toy cat that she previously couldn't care less about. They approached their mother, who immediately was all smiles and kissed them both on the forehead. They asked where Mr. Thenardier was.

"He's outside splitting firewood." Lorette piped up. All three stopped and looked at her.

"And who asked you to speak?" Eponine snapped. Lorette was about to say that she had as much right to speak as anyone, but realized she didn't, and that she had gotten a good smack for speaking out of turn more than once. She sunk in her chair and finished her last bit of bread, then got up to do the dishes.


	6. Look Down

Lorette had finished doing her evening chores and slipped away to play. She took her violin out of its hiding spot in the closet and sat in the empty dining hall and began to play. She played on through the night, the same song over and over of course for it was the only one she knew. She played endlessly until the candles ran low. She became so rapt in her music, that she didn't here Mr. Thenardier walk in.

"Corette."he said firmly, but without anger. She jumped a little with surprise and immediately stopped playing. "Stop making noise. You'll wake all of London." he said gruffly. He turned and started walking away.

"It's not noise."

He stopped. Lorette's heart sank as she realized what she had said to him. She didn't even know why she said it, perhaps it was out of natural defense for her passion.

"What did you say?" Thenardier said as he slowly turned around. Lorette began to tremble and just shook her head. "Answer me, runt! What did you say!"

"Nothing sir." she mumbled.

"That's a lie!" he came towards her and she ran towards the door. She heard him shout "get out and stay out" form behind her and turned back for a split second. The last thing she remembered was his hand flying towards her.

* * *

She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and she had no idea exactly where she was. She tried to get up, then felt a sharp pain in her upper arms and back. She managed to sit up and the visual snow caused by her dizziness turned to actual snow. She was outside. She blinked until she could see clearly, then tried to pinpoint each part of her body that hurt. First, her arms. She pulled up her sleeve and found large, purple bruises, where Mr. Thenardier must've grabbed her. Then her back. She felt it and found a large bump, but couldn't fathom how it got there. Then her face. She put her little hand to her pale little face and felt dried blood. She attempted to wipe it off as best as she could, then stood and looked around. She was in front of the tailor's shop and the sign on the door said "Happy Christmas!" and it dawned on her. Today was Christmas. And what did she get? A violent beating and a one way ticket out into the cold, out onto the streets. She turned around and saw the inn behind her, and immediately thought to get as far away as possible. But where was her violin? She wouldn't leave without it and panicked for a moment, then dug through the snow. She saw the bow sticking up out of a snow bank a few feet away and grabbed it, then found the violin. It was laying there, very picture-esque, with a light blanket of snowflakes beginning to cover it like a veil. She quickly but gently picked it up and brushed the snow off it, then ran. She didn't know where she was going, all she knew that it was away from here.

* * *

She wandered the empty streets of London endlessly. The only people not inside cherishing time with their families and loved ones were the poor. When Lorette turned onto a different street, there were hundreds of them. She started wishing she were back at the inn, even though she knew she belonged here. She held her instrument close, knowing it'd be stolen if she forgot it for a second.

POOR: "Look down and see the beggars at your feet, look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down and see the sweepings of the street, look down, look down upon your fellow man." They watched her with a variety of looks, ranging from hatred to pity, from indifference to welcoming. A boy not much older than Lorette pushed through a group of women and marched right up to her.

BOY: "Ow do you do? My name's Gavroche! These are me people an' 'ere's my patch. Not much to look at, nothing posh, nothing that you'd call up to scratch. This is my school, my 'igh society, 'ere in the slums of St. Michel. We live on the crumbs of humble piety, tough on the teeth, but what the hell! Think you're poor, think you're free? Follow me, follow me!" he said, taking her by the hand and leading her towards the church that the poor were hanging around outside of.

POOR: "Look down and show some mercy if you can, look down, look down, upon your fellow man."

Gavroche led Lorette into the old and apparently abandoned church, where the poor of London went to to pray, to take shelter, or to just forget about their troubles and leave them outside with the cold. An elderly woman, clearly mentally unstable and very religious judging by the collection of crucifixes hanging around her neck, was trying to sell stollen items such as jewelry or tools to no one in particular. She snapped when a young prostitute walked by.

WOMAN: "What do you think yer at? Hangin' 'round me pitch? If you're new around here, girl, you've got a lot to learn!"

PROSTITUTE: "Listen, you old bat! Crazy, bloody witch! At least I give me customers some pleasure in return."

WOMAN: "I know what you give, you give 'em all the pox! Spread around your poison till they end up in a box!"

A man who looked like he had seen better days approached to break up the argument.

MAN: "Leave the poor old cow! Move it, Madeleine, she used to be no better till the clap got to her brain!"

Lorette looked around at all the faces of the people, trying to think of their stories, and discovered that her ideas of what they had been through wasn't too far off from what she had been through.

LORETTE: "When's it gonna end? When are we gonna live? Something's gotta happen now or something's gonna give."

POOR: "It'll come, it'll come, it'll come, it'll come..." They began to pray together. "See our children fed, help us in our shame, something for a crust of bread, in Holy Jesus' name, in the Lord's holy name, in His name, in His name...Look down and show some mercy if you can, look down, look down, upon your fellow man."

Gavroche grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd and up into the empty loft.

"What's your business 'ere?" he asked.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"Well, for starters, what's yer name and 'ow old are ya?"

"My name is Lorette. And I'm seven."

"I'm Gavroche. I'm nine...I think..." he said. "Anyways, where you from?"

"Lanbury Street. I worked at the inn. You?"

"Not sure really. Me parents left me to the streets, so I been 'ere ever since." he said, then held out his hand. She shook it and smiled. She had found someone like her.


	7. Treachery

After celebrating Christmas with his wife and daughter, Mr. Barker set out to return to the inn on important business. He knew what the Thenardiers were up to and needed a word with them. He past the side of the inn and heard speaking. He found that the kitchen window was open a jar, and stopped to listen in. It was Mr. Thenardier and his wife.

"It's about time we got rid of her. Even though she worked day in and day out, she wasn't very good at anything. Sort of useless, really." Madame Thenardier said nonchalantly.

"God's favoring us, dear. It's His way of saying that we needed to let the girl go because her mother couldn't pay us no more, considering she's dead. Those false tales of the kid being sick worked well to get some extra pay though."

"Too bad we don't have anyone to work around the inn besides ourselves though. Pity. She came in handy when I became tired from a hard day's work."

"But, you've never really had a hard day's work. That's what the girl was for."

"Oh. Right. 'Tis a shame, really." Thenardier stood up. "Where you going?"

Before Mr. Barker could listen to more, he had to get away from the inn. Mr. Thenardier had looked in his direction when he stood to get his coat. Thinking he saw someone, he walked over and peered out the window, then shut it. Mr. Barker had disappeared into the snowy abyss to find Lorette.

* * *

"Lottie!" nothing. "Little Lottie, deary, where are you hidin'?" again, nothing. Mr. Thenardier was getting fed up with looking for the girl. "Come out wherever you are!" he stopped. "You treacherous little wretch." He muttered to himself.

"Wait up!" his tall, ruddy wife was stumbling along behind him, tripping over her dress in the snow. "Let's give up. She ain't worth it." she said gasping.

"She is when _this _happens." he muttered.

"When wha - oh..." she said, then stopped as she made out the silhouette of two figures approaching them through the snow. It was the barber from Fleet Street, and holding his hand and trudging along beside him was a shivering, blue-lipped Lorette, one little hand not willing to let go of Mr. Barker's, the other holding her fiddle and bow.

"Ah sir, you found her! God bless you!" Madame Thenardier said with mock enthusiasm.

BARKER: "I found her wandering by a church, the little child, I found her trembling in the shadows. I am here to help Lorette, and I will settle any debt you may think proper. I will pay what I must pay, to take Lorette away."

The Thenardiers exchanged glances, not knowing what to do, nor how to respond. So they decided to do what they do best and lie. Mr. Thenardier put on a saddened face.

THENARDIER: "What to do, what to say, shall you carry our treasure away? What a gem, what a pearl, beyond rubies is our little girl. How can we speak of debt? Let's not haggle for darling Lorette." he approached them and put his coat around Lorette and picked her up. She struggled but he simply gripped her tighter. She turned and looked at Mr. Barker with her big, pleading eyes.

"Remember who's taken care of you all these years lovey. You wouldn't leave us now, would you?" he said, guilting the girl to go back to the inn with them. She stopped stuggling and looked to Mr. Barker for help, then broke free of the innkeeper's arms and ran back to Mr. Barker, who put his arms around her. She grabbed one of his hands with both of hers.

THENARDIER: "Dear Fantine, gone to rest, have we done for your child what is best? Shared our bread, shared each bone, treated her like she's one of our own." he grabbed a cloth hanging from his belt and wiped away fake tears. "Like our own, sir." he said, his voice cracking on purpose.

BARKER: "Your feelings do you credit, sir, and I will ease the..parting blow...let us not talk of bargains, or bones, or greed, now may I say we are agreed?" he aid, making sure Lorette wouldn't leave his side. Madame Thenardier finished wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes, then threw in her opinion.

MME: "That would quite fit the bill, if she hadn't so often been ill. Little dear cost us dear, medicines are expensive, monsieur." Mr. Thenardier shook his head and put his arm around his wife's shoulders, making it look like he wasn't worried about paying for medicine, even though he never did, and knew it was all a complete lie, one that Mr. Barker wasn't buying for a second. "Not that we'd begrudge a sou, it's no more than we Christians must do."

THENARDIERS: "One thing more, one small doubt, there are treacherous people about. No offense, please reflect, your intentions may not be correct."

BARKER: "No more words, here's your price. 50 pounds for your sacrifice. Come Lorette, say goodbye. Let us seek out a friendlier sky. Thank you both for Lorette. It won't take you too long to forget." He said, giving them a glare as he paid them, then took Lorette's little hand and the two walked away.


	8. Happily Ever After

Mr. Barker brought the little girl back to his barber shop, and the pair was immediately greeted by the warm smile that belonged to Mrs. Barker. Upon seeing the girl standing in the doorway,sniffling and shivering and her fingertips turning blue from the cold, she knelt down and took her hand. Lorette was reluctant at first, but then completely gave in. She let Mrs. Barker brush the snow off her and put a blanket around her, then even let her take her violin and bow and set it down, then pick her up. Unlike Mr. Thenardier's arms, Mrs. Barker's were gentle, yet firm enough for a child to feel safe in them.

"Where's Nellie?" Mr. Barker asked.

"She and Albert left this morning on holiday, while you were gone."

"And Johanna?"

"Asleep." she said. Mr. Barker seemed to relax a little and smiled as he kissed his wife on the cheek. He went to hang up his scarf and coat. "What's your name, dear?"

"Lorette Finch, ma'am."

"Lorette? Pretty. French, am I right?"

"My mother was from France. She called me Lottie."

"May _I _call you Lottie?"

"If you want. I don't mind." the child said, looking around curiously at her new home.

"I will then." She said smiling, trying to get the girl to feel more welcome. Lorette sniffled once, then a couple tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her face. "What's the matter?" Mrs. Barker asked.

"I miss my mother." immediately following this, the woman held the girl closer and hugged her, Lorette putting her little arms around her neck and hugging her back.

"Shh, it's okay. Where's your mother now?"

"She's dead. And I didn't even get to say goodbye."

"Lucy."

"Yes?" she said, worried by the alarm in Mr. Barker's voice. She continued to console the child as she listened to her husband.

"Take her upstairs." he said, looking back out the window. Mrs. Barker saw a man walking towards the shop and assumed there were matters to be settled between the two, and took the little child into the other room and up the stairs. Once at the top, she set Lorette down and the two sat at the top of the stairs, the sounds of the door open and the two men speaking downstairs barely audible. Mrs. Barker handed the girl a handkerchief to wipe away her tears.

"Now, tell me about your mother." she said calmly.

"I don't really remember her. I haven't been able to see her in a very long time. She worked all the time, so she paid my master to take care of me for her."

"Think about it."

"Well...I remember she had yellow hair, like you. And she was very proud. And she loved to sing. She'd sing me to sleep every night. She seemed very sad too. I believe it was all my fault that she was so sad."

"Why?"

"I asked her once, why she was so sad, and she said she missed my father. She said I looked a lot like him and reminded her of him."

"So he must've had lovely dark reddish brown hair and beautiful blue eyes, right? And fair skin with freckles and an adorably crooked smile?" Mrs. Barker said to make the girl giggle whilst describing her.

"I never knew him. My mother never had any pictures or anything and never told me any stories. Sometimes I wonder if he ever thinks of us, if he misses my mother like she misses him, or if he ever wishes he'd find us again.

Downstairs, Mr. Barker was talking endlessly into the night with none other than Mr. Thenardier, who was trying to haggle Lorette back.

"We're the only thing she's had."

"Well I bet if you asked her, she wouldn't want to go back. Matter settled, now please leave."

"Do you even know what her 'n' her mother have been through? Her father, Tom Finch, was a good man until he fell with the wrong people. He used her mother as a joke. And right before Little Lottie there came around, he left her. She was left with nothing but a child, no support, no work, no money, no bread. So she gave the girl to us, and we loved her like she was one of ours - "

"And she has the bruises to prove it, right?"

"Her mother was an angel, beautiful, sweet, innocent. She wouldn't have given her to us if she thought we were bad people!"

"But did she know? Did she know how her child was being treated? Clearly not." Mr. Barker said. Mr. Thenardier gaped for words, but Mr. Barker spoke before him. "There is nothing more to say sir, you may go now." he said calmly, standing up to show the innkeeper to the door.

"You don't know what you're doing, you naive fool!"

"Leave!" Mr. Barker had raised his voice only a little as her gestured to the door. Mr. Thenardier gave the barber a dirty look as he straightened his coat and left. Mr. Barker sighed and shut the door behind him, then turned to go upstairs to find Lorette standing in the threshold to the next room, a little old blanket draped around her. She looked frightened.

"What is it, Lottie?" he asked, bending down in front of her to see what was wrong.

"I can't sleep. I heard fighting. I have bad memories of fighting. It gives me nightmares, sir." she said. He looked at her, then gently picked her up and walked her towards the stairs.

"Oh, it's alright, dear. You've nothing to worry about now. The fighting is over, and the nightmares are gone. "

* * *

For the next 5 months, Lorette lived with the Barkers. She earned her keep working around the place, helping Mrs. Barker and the landlady Mrs. Lovett, doing whatever she was told, and contrary to her previous work ethic, she enjoyed being helpful to these people. And instead of a daily smack around and beating, she was loved, particularly by Mr. Barker, who she became close with and who was the father she never had. Mrs. Barker treated her with just as much motherly affection as her own daughter, but Lorette never came to begin to call her "mother", for she was afraid to forget her real mother. She merely called her "ma" instead. She was given clothes that used to belong to Mrs. Barker's sister's daughter before she had grown out of them to replace the rags she had previously worn, and Mrs. Lovett let her borrow some of the sheet music from on top of her piano, and Lorette' fiddling talent began to show through. With little time, the pale, thin, bruised, shivering, trembling, sickly girl became healthier, and her eyes brightened up and her face regained some color as her bruises and scars faded away. Most importantly, she learned how to laugh and how to smile, and she did this very often.

I'd like to continue to tell you that Lorette Finch lived happily ever after with her new family, and that their lives were perfect till the very end. But that wouldn't make for much of a story, now would it?


	9. Poor Thing

"It's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash that taste out." the landlady said to him. "Come with me. We'll got you a nice tumbler of gin, eh?" Mrs. Lovett went into the other room. Todd got up and followed her, stopping to look up the stairs on his way. Mrs. Lovett continued to babble to herself. "Isn't this homey, now? And the wallpaper was only partly singed when the chapel burned down. Here you go." she said, handing him a glass. He looked at it. "You sit down, warm your bones." He slowly walked over to a chair by the fire and sat down.

"You've a room over the shop here? Times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?" he mumbled. Suddenly, the door from the kitchen swung open. The sound of pouring rain and thunder was heard until it was quickly shut again. A figure stood by the door, catching their breath.

"Where've you been, love? I was getting worried with the storm." Mrs. Lovett asked. The figure, a girl, walked into the room. She was dripping wet from head to toe and shivering, her tattered, flimsy old pea coat doing almost nothing to keep out the weather. She wore no hat or hood so her long, dark hair added to the mess. She took her coat off and hung it up, she was only wearing a simple, short sleeved dress underneath it. Mrs. Lovett grabbed a blanket off the couch and threw it over the girl's shoulders. She led her into the room and sat her down opposite Todd. "Calm down, dear. Catch yer breath." the girl breathed heavily and gradually stopped shivering. "Now. Where you been?"

The girl was fiddling with her fingers, she looked down at her feet when she spoke.

"The graveyard, ma'am."

"Now what on earth were you doing there on a day like this? Not right in the head, you are. Absolutely batty. And I needed your 'elp. We almost had a family come in today. Busiest it's been all year."

"I was visiting my mother's grave while I was out running errands, ma'am." At that point. Mr. Todd instantly knew who this was.

"What's your name, dearie?" he asked her.

"Lorette Finch, sir." he merely nodded as anyone would and the matter was dropped. It's been so long and she was so young, she wouldn't be able to recognize him.

"She's my angel, she is. Comes here out of nowhere, looking for work and a place to stay a few years ago. Quiet, earns 'er keep. Warms up the place with some music when she's not helping me out. I'd have to close down shop is she never came along." Mrs. Lovett said as if they were actually listening to her. She reached down and patted the girl on the shoulder, and the girl flinched.

"You play?"

"The violin, sir. My mother taught me when I was very young."

"Who was your mother?"

"Fantine Lanoire. That's all I remember of her though. Why?" she asked, getting skeptical.

"Curiosity." he said back to her, with enough certainty to put her off guard. "Anyways. The room over the shop?"

"Oh yeah. We'd rent it out, but I won't go near it. People say it's haunted." Mrs. Lovett said. The girl stared into the fire.

"Haunted?" Todd asked.

"Oh, yeah. You see something happened up there, years ago. Something not very nice." she said, sitting down. The girl got up from her seat and went to the back of the room, but no one cared to notice.

LOVETT: "There was a barber and his wife, and he was beautiful. A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life, and he was beautiful."

"He was sent to Australia. Fifteen years of hard labor." the girl butted in as she was looking at the pictures on the shelf.

"What was his crime?' Todd asked.

LOVETT: "Foolishness. He had this wife, you see. Pretty little thing, silly little nit had her chance for the moon on a string, poor thing, poor thing. There was this judge, you see. Wanted her like mad, everyday he'd send her a flower. But did she come down from her tower? Sat up there and sobbed by the hour, poor fool. Ah, but there was worse yet to come, poor thing. The Beadle calls on her all polite, poor thing, poor thing. The judge, he tells her, is al contrite, he blames himself for her deadly plight, she must coem straight to his house tonight, poor thing, poor thing."

Todd sat listening intently, fire boiling up inside of him.

LOVETT: "Of course, when she goes there, poor thing, poor thing, they're having this ball all in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear, poor thing, she wanders tormented and drinks poor thing, 'the judge has repented' she thinks, poor thing, "oh where is Judge Turpin?" she asks. He was there, alright, only not so contrite. She wasn't no match for this craft, you see, and everyone thought it so droll. They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of them stood there and laughed, you see, poor soul, poor thing!"

"NO!" Todd stood, completely shocked by the story.

"So it is you. Benjamin Barker." The girl in the shadows said.

"You know him?" Mrs. Lovett asked her, astonished, but she received no reply. The girl left the room.

"Poisoned herself. Arsenic, from the apothecary 'round the corner. Tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me. And he's got your daughter."

"He? Judge Turpin?"

"Adopted her. Like his own." The man stood, speechless.

"Fifteen years. Fifteen years I've sweated in a living hell on a false charge. Fifteen years I spent dreaming I might come home to a wife and child."

"Well I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker - "

"No." he stood. "Not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge." they simply looked at each other. He turned and took his coat off and tossed it angrily into an armchair. She got up and started walking into the other room.

"I have something you might want, sir." the girl's voice from the other room called to him. He walked into the other room to see the girl, his Little Lottie, standing by the door. She looked as young and as innocent as ever, even though she had certainly grown up. She'd be a few months away from turning 22 now. But there she was, still surviving, even though he could tell she had been through a lot, and standing before him was what the poor little French violinist girl that he had taken in as his own all those years ago. Her hair had lightened up a bit with age, it had been much darker when she was young, and she had grown out of her freckles. Her skin was still very fair, and she looked rather sickly and thin. She looked at him, then scurried out the door. He looked at Mrs. Lovett, who merely shrugged. He decided to follow Lottie, and Mrs. Lovett followed him. The girl was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. She picked up her skirt so she wouldn't trip and led them up the stairs, and once they were at the top, she opened the door to the old barber shop, and looked around sadly, for this was the only place she had ever known happiness. She walked in, but Mr. Todd stopped at the threshold.

"Come in." she said softly. He looked up at her, with equal, if not more sadness and fear. "Nothing to be afraid of, sir." she said as she walked across the room, as if she knew what he was thinking. Her eyes shifted across the floor, as if looking for something. He walked in slowly, looking around at everything as if he were a child. He sighed when he saw a doll and a ratty old stuffed rabbit sitting alone on an empty chest in the corner near the door, the two had belonged to Johanna and Lottie respectively as children. His attention was grabbed when he heard something behind him. Mrs. Lovett was standing calmly, watching Lottie as she patted numerous floor boards with her hand, trying to find the hollow board. She found it and pulled it up without any trouble; there were no nails in it. She knelt down and set it aside, then pulled a clothed something out of the hole. Setting it down and carefully unwrapping it, Mr. Todd recognized the box. He walked over and knelt next to her, and she gently handed him the box.

"When they came for us, I hid them." she said as he opened the box to see his own seven Sterling silver razors, still in the perfect condition he had left them in.

"Those handles is chased silver, ain't they?" Mrs. Lovett asked, looking over Mr. Todd's shoulder.

"Silver, yes." he said, looking at his reflection in the razor he had picked up, a million things running through his mind. "Leave me." he said to the two women. Lottie obeyed immediately, and Mrs. Lovett followed her out the door with reluctance.


	10. In My Life

~A SHORT WHILE LATER~

Lottie stood on the corner of Fleet Street, sweeping the cobblestone entrance to Mrs. Lovett's shop. Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett were inside, talking quietly. As she swept, Lottie watched people as they passed from across the street. She stopped sweeping when she saw a man and his daughter walking hand in hand, happily. She sighed and wondered what her father was like. Did she really resemble him as much as her mother always said? Who was he? What was he like? Would he have gone for walks with her each morning and smile and laugh with her? And a bigger, burning question that in her 21 years had never been answered to her: Why did he leave? Where did he go? Lottie continued sweeping.

LOTTIE: "In my life there are so many questions and answers that somehow seem wrong. In my life, there are times when I catch in the silence of a faraway song, and it sings of a world that I long to see, out of reach, just a whisper away, waiting for me. Does he know I'm alive? Do I know if he's real? Does he see what I saw, does he feel what I feel? In my life, I'm so very alone, now the love in my life disappears, find me now, find me here."

She stopped sweeping and rested her head on her hands against the broom stick, watching the man jump puddles with his daughter, her mother watching gleefully a couple of feet away. Inside, Mr. Todd sits alone, Mrs. Lovett had gone to find a chair for his shop. He looks out the window, contemplating what Lottie was doing, until he saw that she was watching a happy family. For a moment, he felt a twinge of sorrow and regret; Even though he had lost it all, he still had a wonderful, beautiful, loving family. Lottie had no such thing, save for the few months she lived with him and his wife fifteen years ago. He remembered the adorable seven year old French girl who, although she had a sadness about her, was so strong. And now what was she?

TODD: "Oh Lottie. You're such a lonely child, how pensive and sad you seem to be. Believe me, if it were in my power I'd fill each passing hour. How quiet is must be, I can see, with nobody for company." He got up from his seat and opened the door, calling her inside just because it bothered him to see her with nothing better to do than stand alone and watch the happiness of others.

"Lottie. Inside." he mumbled. She put her broom away and trotted up to the door.

"Sir?" she asked sheepishly.

"Hm?"

"Could I ask you something?"

"What?" he grunted, almost getting annoyed and impatient.

"Do you know what happened to my father?" there was a pause as he stopped to think. He did know, but he didn't know if she should know. "Who was he?"

"Not now." he simply muttered. But she persisted.

LOTTIE: "There's so little I know, that I'm longing to know of the child I was in a long time ago. There's so little you say, of the lives you have known, why you keep to yourself, why you're always alone. So dark, so dark and deep the secrets that you keep."

He couldn't lie to her and say he didn't know. She clearly knew he did.

LOTTIE: "In my life I had all that I wanted, you were loving and gentle and good." he figured she was talking about Lucy and himself when they took her in. "But sir, dear sir, in your eyes I am still like a child who was lost in a wood."

TODD: "No more words. No more words, it's a time that is dead. There are words that are better unheard, better unsaid."

LOTTIE: "In my life I'm no longer a child and I yearn for the truth that you know, of the years. Years ago."

TODD: "You will learn, truth is given by God to us all in our time, in our turn."

Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett walked in and Lottie sighed in disappointment, then Lottie grabbed her violin off the table and walked out the door.

"Alright then." Mrs. Lovett said, not bothering to want or care to know what had just happened.

* * *

Lottie walked briskly down the street, then around a corner onto another. She sat on a bench outside of a park and began to play. She played aimlessly and endlessly, and didn't stop until she heard someone calling her name.

"Lottie!" she stopped and turned in the direction of the voice. A boy just a year or two younger than her was walking towards her on the bench. She had no clue who he was and was about to ignore him until he stepped a little closer.

"Anthony!" she said, jumping up and flinging her arms around him. The boy returned the embrace. "You came back alright!"

"I did, and it was wonderful! You wouldn't believe what the rest of the world looks like. But how have you been? I haven't seen you for so long!"

"I've been good. I'm alright. Where are you heading to, anyway? You look lost." she said with a giggle, changing the conversation.

"Hyde Park. Would you mind helping me?"

"Not at all. May I walk with you?"

"Of course." the boy said. They walked towards the end of the street, talking about things they remembered from when they were younger, and how they used to be friends as children. They turned the corner and passed a large, mansion like house.

"Who's house is that?" Anthony stopped to ask Lottie. She was a little unprepared for the question, even though she knew who lived there.

"That's Judge Turpin's house, that is." she said with a choke. She didn't want to be here. "Would should keep going then, it looks like it's going to rain - "

"And who's _that_?" he asked, pointing up to the second story window, where a girl was crocheting miserably.

"That's Johanna. His ward."

"She's beautiful."

"That she is."

"How did you know? Do you know her?"

"She was practically my sister. A very long time ago though, she wouldn't remember me." Anthony was barely listening, he was too occupied with watching Johanna.

ANTHONY: "In my life she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun, and my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has scarcely begun." He turned to Lottie, who was very, very happy for her friend, but still sad. He had just gotten everything he wanted, and she had spent almost twenty two years waiting for what she wanted, and it still hadn't come. "Dear Lottie, you're the friend who has brought me here, thanks to you I am one with the gods and heaven is near!" Somehow, these words pierced through Lottie; she wished she could find happiness just like that. "And I soar through a world that is new that is free."

LOTTIE: "Every word that is said is a dagger in me. In my life, there's been no one like her anywhere, anywhere, where she is. If God asked, I'd be his." she said to herself, dreaming of her mother.

ANTHONY: "In my life there is someone who touches my life, waiting near."

LOTTIE: "Waiting here."


	11. Pirelli

St. Dunstan's Marketplace. The next morning.

A flourishing crowd of people of every class bustled about the streets. Merchants of all sorts were selling everything imaginable. Making their way through the crowd was Mrs. Lovett, Lottie Finch and Mr. Todd not far behind them.

"He's 'ere every Thursday. I-talian. All the rage he is." Mrs. Lovett said to him.

"Best barber in London they say. Sounds a bit fraudulent if you ask me." Lottie added in. The walked to the center of the market and stopped, taking a moment to look at the stand set up in the corner. 'Signor Adolfo Pirelli: King of the barbers, barber of kings' it read. There were also advertisements for a "Pirelli's Miracle Elixir". They ignored this and continued on, until Todd stopped. His eye had caught the Beadle Bamford, the toady to the source of his vendetta. His rage boiled up inside him. He put his hand to one of the razors on his belt holster and was about to dart towards the beadle, but something had his coat.

"Hang on." the little voice said. He stopped reluctantly, and turned to see Little Lottie looking at him. She let go of the back of his coat when she knew he had calmed down and they continued walking. Suddenly, everyone's attention was grabbed by a boy no older than 14 beating a drum on Pirelli's stand. He put the drum down and addressed the crowd.

BOY: "Ladies and Gentlemen! May I have your attention please? Do you wake every morning in shame and despair to discover your pillow is covered with hair what ought not to be there? Well, ladies and gentlemen, from now on you can waken with ease! You need never again have a worry or care, I will show you a miracle, marvelous, rare. Gentlemen, you are about to see something what rose from the dead...on the top of my head!" he pulled off his hat to reveal a matted head of long, bright yellow hair. A few select groups in the audience chuckled and laughed. The trio was unappalled. The boy went on. "Scarcely a month ago, gentlemen, I was suddenly struck with a rare oriental disease. Though the finest physicians in London were called, I awakened one morning amazed and appalled to discover with dread that my head was as bald as a novice's knees! I was dying of shame till a gentleman came, an illustrious barber, Pirelli by name. He gave me a liquid as precious as gold, I rubbed it in daily like what I was told and behold! Less than thirty days old!" he grabbed a few bottles of some slimy, pale yellow liquid from behind him, tossing all but one of them into the crowd.

BOY: "T'was Pirelli's Miracle Elixir, that's what did the trick sir, true sir, true. Was it quick sir? Did it in a tick, sir! Just like an elixir ought to do. 'Ow 'bout a bottle, mister? Only costs a penny guarantee!" he knelt down on his stand in front of a bald man in the crowd and let a little of the liquid pour onto his head, then encouraged him to rub it in. The man gawked at the smell. Lottie distracted them, trying to expose them as frauds.

LOTTIE: "Penny buys a bottle? I don't know. You don't need - ah, let's go!" she said loud enough to be heard. Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd quickly caught on to her game, as did the boy.

BOY: "Does Pirelli's stimulate the growth, sir? You can have my oath, sir, 'tis unique. Rub a minute, stimulatin', innit? Soon you'll have to thin it once a week!" A man next to Todd was passed a bottle. Her turned to Mrs. Lovett and, like Lottie, spoke loudly over the crowd.

TODD: "Pardon me, ma'am, what's that awful stench?"

: "Are we standing near and open trench? Pardon me sir, what's that awful stench?"

TODD: "Must be standing near an open trench."

The boy quickly tried to cover himself.

BOY: "Buy Pirelli's Miracle Elixir, anything what's slick sir, soon sprouts curls. Try Pirelli's, when they see how thick, sir, you can have your pick, sir, of the girls! See Pirelli's Miracle Elixir grow a little wick, sir, then some fuzz. The Pirelli's soon'll make it thick, sir, like a good elixir always does!"

The man next to him passed Mr. Todd the bottle. The three examined it.

BOY: "Wanna buy a bottle, missus?"

TODD: "What is this?

LOTTIE: "What is this?"

TODD:" Smells like piss."

LOTTIE: "Smells like - ew..."

TODD: "Looks like piss."

LOVETT: "Wouldn't touch it if I was you dear!"

TODD: "This is piss. Piss with ink."

The boy grew very frustrated with them and quickly and desperately tried to fix it.

BOY: "Let Pirelli's activate your roots, sir!"

TODD: "Keep it off your boots, sir, eats right through!"

BOY: "Yes, get Pirelli's, use a bottle of it, ladies seem to love it - !"

LOTTIE: "Flies do, too!" the crowd laughed, but they were interrupted by the appearance of a tall, flamboyantly dressed man who must've been the infamous Pirelli.

PIRELLI: "My elixir is piss! Who says this!" he said angrily to the audience. After a moment, Todd spoke up.

"I do." everyone turned and gawked at him. He bravely stepped forward. "I am Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street. I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's Elixir, and I say to you that it is nothing but an arrant fraud concocted from piss and ink." Lottie smiled. "Furthermore, Signor, I have serviced no kings. But I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank." he whipped out his two razors like a professional and held them up for everyone to see that they were pure silver. "Do you see these razors? I lay them against five pounds." he held one up to Pirelli, who observed it very closely. A smug grin slowly appeared on his face. "You are no match, sir. Either accept my challenge, or reveal yourself as a sham."

"You hear this foolish man?" Pirelli said to the crowd. "Now, please. You will see how he will-a regret-a his-a folly! Toby!" the boy came scurrying out from behind the stand and quickly set up two chairs. Todd figured to make himself look professional enough, he should have an assistant as well, and called Lottie up, even though he didn't need her.

"Who's for a free shave?" he asked. A pair of friends in front jumped up immediately and sat in their respective chairs on the stand. Mrs. Lovett took Sweeney's coat, and even though it was cold out and she had just a simple, tattered white dress on, Lottie removed hers as well to make it look like she knew what she was doing. The two men took their places by their customers. Todd handed Lottie his razor, cloth and lather supplies. "Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?" he asked, having this all planned out.

"Glad, as always, to oblige my friends and neighbors!" the Beadle called from the group as he made his way toward them. Lottie handed Mr. Todd her belt that previously was set over her skirt to do nothing but carry some rosin, and he strapped it to the chair.

"Ready?" the Beadle asked them.

"Ready." Pirelli replied. A beat.

"Ready." Todd mumbled.

"The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner!"


	12. The Contest

The contest began. The barbers got to work.

Pirelli quickly picked a razor and his boy Toby held out a strop for him. The barber whisked the razor against the leather, pretending not to notice it was cutting up Toby's hands as he went, smiling to the crowd the entire time. Todd carefully took his time to pick out his razor, then slowly and gently sharpened it using Lottie's belt, while he set the girl to work on lather.

PIRELLI: "Now, signorini, signori we mix-a the lather but first-a, you gather around. Signorini, singori, you looking a man who had had-a the glory to shave-a the Pope! Mr. Sweeney-whoever I beg-a you pardon, you'll probably say it was only a cardinal, nope! It was-a da Pope!" he said as he finished lathering his customer. Toby held up a canvas with the Pope's portrait on it. A few people in the audience laughed. He started to shave the man, paying more attention to pleasing the audience than his work.

PIRELLI: "To shave-a the face, to cut-a the hair, require the grace, require the flair, for if-a you slip, you nick the skin, you clip-a the chin, you rip-a the lip a bit beyond-a repair. To shave-a the face, or even a part, without it-a smart, require the heart, not just-a the flash, it take-a panache, it take-a the passion for the art." Todd had just begun to lather his customer, Pirelli was nearly halfway finished. "To shave-a the face, to trim-a the beard, to make-a the bristle clean like a whistle, this is from early infancy the talent give to me, by God." Pirelli had forgotten his customer and was now speaking to the crowd. Toby watched him nervously. "It take-a the skill, it take-a the brains. It take-a the will to take-a the pains. It take-a the pace, it take-a the grace!"

All the while he was sucking up to the people. Mr. Todd had quickly, quietly and carefully shaved his man. Pirelli never quite finished.

"The winner is Todd!" the Beadle said aloud. Pirelli turned to them with shock and embarrassment, but he approached them and bowed respectively anyway.

"Sir, I bow to a skill far greater than your own." he said.

"The five pound." Todd said, ignoring him otherwise and raising a hand to accept his reward. Pirelli paid him with a cocky smile.

"May the good Lord smile on you." he said, then looked at Lottie, who grew uncomfortable at this. "Until we meet again." he reached his hand up to stroke her face and she quickly turned away. Todd gave her her belt back and put an arm over her, giving Pirelli a glare as they walked away. As they joined Mrs. Lovett, an upper class man approached them.

"Congratulations, Mr. Todd. May I ask you, sir, do you have your own establishment?"

"He certainly does!" Mrs. Lovett replied for him. "Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor. Above my meat pie emporium in Fleet Street." Not caring about what they were talking about, Todd left the group and headed towards the Beadle.

"I thank you, sir." he said upon meeting up with him. "You are a paragon of integrity."

"Well, I try to do my best for my friends and neighbors." he said with a greasy smile. "Your establishment is in Fleet Street, you say?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, Mr. Todd. You shall surely see me there before the week is out."

"You will be welcome, Beadle Bamford. And I can guarantee to give you, without a penny's charge, the closest shave you will ever know."

The Beadle smiled, tipped his hat and walked away. Mrs. Lovett and Lottie rejoined him.

* * *

~THE NEXT MORNING~

Mr. TOdd stood before his window, looking out at nothing in particular. He began briskly sharpening a razor, a look of disgust on his face.

"It's not much of a chair, but it'll do." said Mrs. Lovett from behind him. She was sitting in an old wooden armchair. "It was me poor Albert's chair. Sit in it all day long, 'e did, after his leg gave out with the gout."

"Why doesn't the Beadle come? "Before the week is out", that's what he said."

"Well, who says the week's out? It's only Tuesday." she said blatantly. He looked at her then threw his sharpening tool behind him.

"What's your rush?" She said, walking up to him as he looked through his reflection in the shattered mirror in the corner. "Just wait, love. Wait."

"And the judge? When'll we get to 'im?" He observed his razor, the walked over to the door and opened it, then made his way towards the stairs. Mrs. Lovett went after him and dragged him back inside.

"Can't you think of nothing else? Always brooding away on your wrongs and what happened Heaven knows 'ow many years ago. Come on." She had him take a seat in the chair. He looked in the razor's reflection, a small smile appearing in the corner of his mouth.

"Don't! I'm telling you!" Lottie's voice was heard faintly from below as heavy footsteps were heard coming up the stairs. Todd darted from the chair and hid behind the door. Anthony bursted inside, surprised to see only Mrs. Lovett. Lottie soon followed him, stopping in the doorway.

"Oh. Excuse me, ma'am."

"Mrs. Lovett, son. Friend of yours?" she said, looking to Lottie.

"A pleasure, ma'am." Anthony said, before noticing Mr. Todd hiding behind the door. "Mr. Todd! there's a girl who needs my help, such a sad girl, and lonely, but beautiful too!"

"Slow down, son."

"Yes. I'm sorry." Anthony apologized as Mr. Todd had him sit in the chair to speak to him. "This girl has a guardian who keeps her locked away, but then, this morning she dropped this." he pulled out a key with a ribbon tied on the end of it. "Surely a sign Johanna wants me to help her! That's her name, Johanna. And Turpin is her guardian. He's a judge of some sort." Todd looked up from Anthony at Lottie, who was shrinking in the corner of the doorway, hoping not to get in any trouble for what she has done. But the only reason he would've been angry at her was for not knowing that she knew where his daughter was, but that didn't even cross his mind. "Once he goes to court, I'm going to slip into the house, release her and beg her to come away with me tonight."

"Oh, this is very romantic." Mrs. Lovett threw in.

"Yes." Anthony said with a big smile. "But besides Lottie, my dear friend who I can thank for all this, I don't know anyone in London. And I need somewhere safe to bring her till I've hired a coach to take us away. If I could keep her here just for an hour or two, I'd be forever in your debt." Todd looked back up at Lottie, trying to make her answer for him.

"You can bring her here, Anthony." she said, not sure if that was good or bad.

"Thank you! Mr. Todd?" he asked to verify. Mr. Todd simply nodded. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" he stood and shook Todd's hand eagerly. "Thank you, my friend!" he said to Lottie on his way to the door. He left in a hurry. Lottie was running her fingers over the top of her head through her dark reddish hair, looking around nervously.

"I am absolutely going to Hell when I die." she mumbled to herself.

"Seems like the fates are favorin' you at last, Mr. T." Mrs Lovett said. He simply grunted. "What is it? You'll have her back before the day's out."

"What about him?" he said, referring to Anthony, not caring that Anthony's best friend was in the room.

"Him? Oh, well. Let him bring her here. And then, since you're so hot for a little," she pointed to her throat so Lottie couldn't see, but Lottie assumed; she was much smarter than Mrs. Lovett would've ever thought. The girl quietly left the room and went downstairs. After a moment, faint music could be heard. "That's the throat to slit, my dear." she put a boiling kettle on the stove to make tea. Mr. Todd ignored her and went to the smaller window. "Poor Johanna. All those years without a scrap of motherly affection." she said, not even caring to remember that Lottie, who had been orphaned since she was seven, had been around for years. "Well I'll soon see to that." she turned and noticed him. She too looked out the window to see Pirelli and his boy walking towards the shop.

"Keep the boy downstairs." he mumbled to her. She nodded and left.


	13. Damn Pegs

Mrs. Lovett was met with Pirelli on her way down the stairs.

"Senora, is Mr. Todd at home?" he asked politely.

"Plying his trade upstairs." she looked to Toby. "Oh, look at it now. You wouldn't mind if I gave it a nice, juicy meat pie, would you?"

"Si, si, si, whatever you want." Pirelli shooed the boy away. Toby smiled and followed Mrs. Lovett.

"Your teeth are strong, I hope." She said to him. Pirelli went up the stairs and the two went into the kitchen, Where Lottie was sitting on the edge of the table. She stopped playing once they walked in. "Close the door." Toby did. "Get you a nice lovely pie." she said, taking a random, probably stale pie from the counter and plopping it onto a plate. "Sit down, make yourself comfy." She said to Toby, who eagerly sat at the table and took off his hat, once again revealing the hideous blonde wig. "Keep playing, Lottie dear." Lottie sneered at Mrs. Lovett, then began to play once more. Toby watched her with content, enjoying the music.

Pirelli knocked on the door's window.

"Come in." Mr. Todd said, sweeping up dust, pretending to not know Pirelli was coming.

"Mr. Todd." the faux-Italian greeted him.

"Signor Pirelli." he stopped sweeping. The other removed his hat.

"Call me Daniel." Daniel O'Higgins is the name when it's not professional." he said with an Irish accent. "I'd like me five quid back, if you don't mind."

"Why?"

"Because, you entered into our little wager under false pretenses, my friend."

Todd scoffed. He lied about his name too.

"So that you might remember to be a bit more forthright in the future, I'll be taking half your profits herewith, share and share alike." he looked at Todd. "Mr. Benjamin Barker."

Downstairs, Mrs. Lovett served Toby his pie.

"Here we are. Tuck in. I like to see a man with a healthy appetite. Reminds me of me dear Albert. Liked to gorge himself to bloatation, he did." she said, looking behind her at a picture of a fat, bald man on the wall. "He didn't have your nice head of hair, though."

"To tell the truth," Toby pulled the wig off to reveal short, brown hair. "It gets awful hot." Lottie stopped playing to look at them, but when she heard slow, heavy footsteps from upstairs, she went right back to it, picking up the tempo a little more.

"You don't remember me, do you? And why should you? I was just a little nip you hired for a couple of weeks sweeping up hair." the flamboyant barber said to him as he grabbed a razor off the table. "But I remember these, and how could I ever forget you, Mr. Barker. I used to sit right there and dream of the day when I could be a proper barber meself. You might say that was inspiration to me. And I wouldn't mind stickin' around 'ere, especially with that lovely kid you got working for you." he said, referring to Lottie.

"She's not a kid. She's an adult, jus' like you an' me."

"Oh, well. All the better I suppose." he said, smiling lustfully.

"And she doesn't work for me. I took her in before you ever showed up." he said angrily, trying to get the point across to Pirelli that he wasn't wanted. Todd walked over toward the smaller window. The boiling kettle was steaming.

"Anyways, do we have a deal? Or should I run down the street to me old pal, Beadle Bamford? What do you say to that now, Mr. Sweeney Todd?" he said, then began laughing at the name. The kettle whistled furiously and hot anger boiled up inside Todd. He grabbed the kettle and whipped it to his head twice before he fell to the gorund, blood spewing from his face. He hit him again and again until he was sure he was unconscious.

Lottie heard this and instantly knew what was going on. She was so distracted that she played a wrong string. She stopped and noticed Toby watching.

"Damn pegs!" she said, trying to keep his attention. She turned her pegs quickly, then plucked the broken hairs from her bow. "Always goin' flat. Happens when it gets cold, you know. Need to be tuned everyday." she said to him nervously, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling. She set her bow down on the table and began to play pizzicato, holding her violin like a mandolin. She played an upbeat, happy tune to keep the boy engaged. "So, um...how'd you end up with that dreadful..Italian..?"

"Got me from the workhouse. Been there since I was born." he said. She sympathized with him for a second. "Oh, GOd! He's got an appointment with his tailor! If he's late, he'll blame me!" he said, dropping his pie and bolting out the door.

"Wait!" Mrs. Lovett called to him. The two women looked at each other fearfully.

Toby hurried up the stairs right into the shop.

"Signor! You've got an appointment!" he said, looking around for his master, only to find Mr. Todd pouring himself some tea out of the boiling kettle.

"Signor Pirelli's been called away. Better run after him."

"No, sir. I should stay here, or it'll be a lashing." The boy sat on the trunk in the corner of the room. Todd looked over to him and his eyes were immediately fixed on the hand that got shut in the door of the chest. "He's a great one for the lashings." A finger twitched. Todd desperately thought up some conversation.

"So...Lottie played the violin for you, did she?"

"She's got some real talent."

"That she does." he said with a nod. His eyes were again drawn to the twitching hand. "And Mrs. Lovett gave you a pie, did she?" the boy nodded with a smile. "Well, if I know a growing boy, there's always room for more pie, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why don't you wait for your master downstairs? Be another pie in it for you, I'm sure."

"No, I better stay here." the boy said. Todd was growing exceptionally frustrated.

"Tell you what." he said, trying not to explode. "Why don't you tell Mrs. Lovett that I said to give you a nice, big tot of gin?"

The boy's face lit up. "Thank you, sir!" he said, then darted downstairs. Todd closed the door after him, then looked to the trunk in the corner.


	14. I Dreamed A Dream

Mrs. Lovett was pouring Toby his second full glass of gin. Lottie was washing dishes.

"You might want to slow down a bit, lad. It'll go straight to your head." she said, watching is he inhaled his glass.

"They used to give it to us in the workhouse, so's we could sleep." he said.

"That's nice dear. I think I'll pop in on Mr. Todd for tick. You alright there?"

"Leave the bottle." he said. Mrs. Lovett didn't bother to argue and left the bottle of gin on the table.

Upstairs, Mr. Todd was cleaning his razor, his back to the door when Mrs. Lovett walked in.

"Oh that lad is drinking me out of house and home." she said. No response from the man in the corner. "How long till Pirelli gets back?"

Todd turned around, the blood stains on his shirt now clearly visible. Mrs. Lovett gasped with shock. "He won't be back."

"Mr. T! You didn't!" Again, no response. She scurried over to the trunk and slowly opened it. The moment she saw the body and slammed it shut. "You're barking mad!" she said, making sure she wasn't loud enough where Toby and Lottie could hear. "Killing a man what done you no harm!"

"He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me. 'Alf me earnings." Todd said nonchalantly. Mrs. Lovett sighed.

"Oh, well. That's a different matter then." She reopened the trunk. "Ew. All that blood. Poor bugger. She reached down and began to dig through Pirelli's coat, and didn't stop until she found his coin pouch. She opened it to see if there was anything in it, then put it in her dress. "Waste not, want not. Now, what are going to do about the boy?"

Todd looked into his razor. "Send him up." he said.

"Oh, not him, he's a simple thing."

Mr. Todd looked at her, irritated. "Send him up!"

"Now, Mr. T. One's enough for today. Besides, I could use some extra help around the shop. Lottie's been awful quiet and depressed-like lately, and me poor knees ain't what they used to be."

"Alright." he mumbled as he walked over to the window.

"We'll have to stock up on the gin though. Boy drinks like a sailor."

"The judge!" Todd exclaimed as he saw the judge approach the shop, the Beadle in tow. He looked around nervously, not knowing what to do. "Get out." he said to Mrs. Lovett. "Get out!" he barked when she didn't leave soon enough. He rushed to get his coat on to hide the blood on his sleeve. As the Judge opened the door and walked in.

"Mr. Todd?"

The sound of Lottie plucking a lovely tune on her violin was heard clearly from downstairs. The barber smiled. "At your service."

* * *

Downstairs, Toby had passed out on the parlor floor, the bottle of gin no more than a foot away. Mrs. Lovett had left to run a couple of errands, leaving an already morose Lottie all alone. She had given up on the dishes and was sitting on the table, looking out the window. She had tried not to think of her father at all in the past few days and to help her former master find his daughter. But as quiet and ignorant she had tried to be about it, her past still crossed her mind every once in a while. After sitting by that window and thinking for some time, she decided it need to stop. She needed to move on. Mr. Todd, or Mr. Barker, as he still was in her mind, was home. He had been the father she never had, and she needed to not throw that away. She'd help him win back Johanna and they'd live happily ever after. 'I need to be strong. I need to move on and leave all that behind' she thought to herself. She continued to pluck at her violin. 'Mr. Barker's home. I need to be positive about that. Even though he's not who he used to be...' She began to reminisce about the time when she lived with Mr. Barker, his wife and Johanna, and how it was the only happy time in her life.

LOTTIE: "There was a time when men were kind, when their voices were soft, and their words were inviting. There was a time when love was blind, and the world was a song and the song was exciting. There was a time...it all went wrong." she picked up her bow and switched form playing pizzicato to actually playing. "I dreamed a dream in time gone by when hope was high and life worth living. I dreamed that love would never die, I dreamed that God would be forgiving. Then I was young and unafraid, and dreams were made and used and wasted. There was no ransom to be paid, no song unsung, no wine untasted. But the tigers come at night, with their voices soft as thunder, as they tear your hope apart and they turn your dreams to shame. He spent a winter by my side, he filled my days with endless wonder. He took my childhood in his stride, but he was gone when summer came." she continued to play her violin, the tune becoming more upbeat as she became more inspired. "I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living, so different now from what it seems!" she sustained and note, then stopped, coming back to reality. "Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."


	15. Epiphany

Anthony rushed past the door and up the stairs to the shop.

Lottie heard him and she immediately shrunk with fear. The judge was upstairs. Someone was gonna get it for letting this happen.

She ducked as the judge raced down the stairs, past the window and across the street. Shouting was heard from upstairs. Then Anthony followed the judge, only he was sprinting to get away. Even though it would bode ill for her, Lottie had to go upstairs. She hurried and opened the door.

"What's happened?" she asked, pretending like she didn't know. But what she said had set something off inside Todd, for he immediately lashed out at her.

"Traitorous little wretch!" he growled as he went towards her and swung his razor. He quickly regained control of himself when he Lottie's hand to her face, blood rapidly seeping in between her fingers. He turned around and faced the window. "I had him." he mumbled.

"He busted, in I know, I saw them both running down the stairs." she admitted, her voice trembling with fear of being attacked again.

TODD: "No, I had him! His throat was bare beneath my hand...no I had him! His throat was there and he'll never come again!"

LOTTIE: "Easy now, hush sir, hush. We keep telling you - "

TODD: "When!"

LOTTIE: "What's your rush?"

TODD: "Why did I wait? She told me to wait, now he'll never come again!" he stood, looking out the window. "There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it. But not for long." he said with a maniacal grin. Lottie stood clutching her face as he paced back and forth. "They all deserve to die, tell you why, Little Lottie tell you why." he said as he turned and went to the shattered mirror and looked at his shattered reflection. "Because in all of the whole human race, Little Lottie there are two kinds of men and only two: There's on who's been put in his proper place and the one with his foot in the other one's face, look at me, Little Lottie, look at you. Now we all deserve to die." he turned around and advanced toward her, and she cowered away from him, against the wall. He pinned her by the throat with just his hand. "Even you, Little Lottie, even I." he loosened his grip so she could breathe, but still clutched her neck and led her over to the chair where he sat her down and put his razor up to her throat. She tried to inch away, but was unsuccessful. "Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief, for the rest of us death will be a relief, now we all deserve to die!" his evil smile faded and he slowly lowered the razor away from her, realizing what he was doing. "And I'll never see Johanna, no I'll never hug my girl to me, finished!" he hurried out the door and down onto the street amongst the civilians.

TODD: "Alright! You sir, how bout a shave?" he said to man. "Come and visit your good friend Sweeney!" he pointed his razor to another man. "You sir, too, sir, welcome to the grave! I will have vengeance. I will have salvation. Who, sir? You, sir? No one's in the chair, come on, come on. Sweeney's waiting, I want you, bleeders. You, sir! Anybody! Gentlemen, now don't be shy! Not one man, no, nor ten men, nor a hundred can assuage me, I will have you!" he made his way through the crowds of people, down the street. "And I will get him back, even as he gloats, in the meantime, I'll practice on less honorable throats!" he collapsed by a large puddle and stared back at his reflection, before disturbing it with his hand. "And my Lucy lies in ashes, and I'll never see my girl again, but the work waits!" he looked up at the sky, as if challenging God, then closed his eyes. "I'm alive at last, and I'm full of joy!"

When he opened his eyes, he was back in his shop, knelt on the floor, his hands in the air. Lottie was watching him, her hand still to her face, her face still dripping blood. She waited a moment as he calmed down.

"That's all very well, sir, but what are we going to do about him?" she said, having realized what he had done with Pirelli. Todd lowered his arms, but didn't seem to yet acknowledge her presence. She knelt down in front of him. "Ello? Can you 'ear me?" again, no reply. She sighed and took her hand from her face to help him up, revealing two scars crossing on her pretty little face. It was still bleeding, and the blood stood out greatly in scary contrast against her pale skin. "Come on. You great, useless thing." she said as she slung his arm around her shoulders and supported him down the stairs. She dragged him into the kitchen downstairs and dropped him into a seat at the table, then went into the other room in search of Toby. She easily found him out cold on the floor, the bottle of gin in his hand. She took it from him and shook it to find barely any left. She returned to the kitchen, grabbing a glass on the way and pouring Mr. Todd a glass of gin.

"There. Drink that down." she said as he took the glass from her before she went to return the bottle to the shelf. He downed the gin and got up, taking the towel from his belt and wetting it with water. Lottie began to finish putting dishes away while talking to him, not even knowing he had left the table, her back was to him as she spoke. "Now, we've got a body moldering away upstairs. What do you intend on doing about that, then?"

He walked up to her and turned her around, then very gently began to clean the still bleeding wounds on her pretty little face. She flinched from the pain, but he continued to be as careful as possible.

"Later on when it's dark. We'll take to some secret place and bury it." he looked to make sure his razor didn't get any closer to her eye than it already had, then left her with the towel, which she pressed to the gashes to make sure they'd stop bleeding.

"Oh yeah. I guess we could do that." she said. He returned to the table where her violin and bow were sitting, to silently think to himself. Don't suppose he's got any relatives that are gonna come poking around looking for him." she mumbled as she returned to her routine chores. She first checked the cupboard to see if there were any ingredients for anything left, only to find some moldy flour, a mouse, and half a carrot. She sighed, knowing that sooner or later she'd have to find a second job; she already worked for Mrs. Lovett for free to save the woman money and to earn a place to stay. Then, an idea popped into her head.


	16. A Little Priest

Lottie pondered.

LOTTIE: "Seems a downright shame." Todd looked at her.

"Shame?"

LOTTIE: "Seems an awful waste, such a nice plump frame what's-his-name has...had...has, nor it can't be traced. Business needs a lift, debts to be erased. Think of it as thrift, as a gift, if you get my drift. No?" she said when he didn't respond. "Seems an awful waste," She folded the towel he had given her and set it aside to wash later. "I mean, with the price of meat, what it is, when you get it, _if _you get it." Todd looked up at her enthusiastically.

"Ah!" he said, finally understanding. "Smart as a whip you are, love."

LOTTIE: "Good, you got it! Take for instance, Mrs. Mooney and he pie shop: business never better using only pussy cats and toast. Now a pussy's good for maybe six or seven at the most, but I'm sure it can't compare as far as taste - " he stood and walked over to her.

TODD: "Little Lottie, what a charming notion, eminently practical and yet appropriate, as always,"

LOTTIE: "Well, it _does _seem a waste."

TODD: "Little Lottie, how I've lived without you all these years, I'll never know!" he grabbed her and began to dance with her.

LOTTIE: "Think about it! Lots of other gentlemen'll soon be coming for a shave, won't they?"

TODD: "How delectable, also undetecable, how choice, how rare!"

LOTTIE: "Think of all them pies!" she left him for the window, and began watching the people on the street. He joined her.

TODD: "For what's the sound of the world out there?"

LOTTIE: "What, Mr. Todd, what, Mr. Todd, what is that sound?"

TODD: "Those crunching noises pervading the air!"

LOTTIE: "Yes, Mr. Todd, yes, Mr. Todd, yes all around!" she said with a giggle, the idea exciting them both.

TODD: "It's man devouring man, my dear,"

BOTH: "Then who are we to deny it in here?"

Lottie went to the back of the kitchen where the oven was. Todd followed her and stood on the opposite side of the counter.

"These are desperate times, Lottie. And desperate measures are called for." he said. She had pulled a stale pie out of the oven and set it in front of him. He looked at it disdainfully.

"Here we are. Hot out of the oven."

"What is that?" he asked, as if afraid of it. She leaned on the counter.

LOTTIE: "It's priest. Have a little priest."

TODD: "Is it any good?"

LOTTIE: "Sir, it's too good, at least, then again they don't commit sins of the flesh, so it's pretty fresh." they went to the window and watched as the priest from St. Dunstan's church across the street welcomed people inside.

TODD: "Awful lot of fat?"

LOTTIE: "Only where it sat."

TODD: "Haven't you got poet, or something like that?"

LOTTIE: "No, you see the trouble with poet is 'ow do you know it's deceased? Try the priest." Todd looked away and walked over to the other window, Lottie following him. "Lawyer's rather nice.

TODD: "If it's for a price."

LOTTIE: "Order something else, though, to follow since no one should swallow it twice."

TODD: "Anything that's lean?"

LOTTIE: "Well, then if you're British and loyal, you might enjoy royal marine. Anyway, it's clean, though, of course, it tastes of wherever it's been."

TODD: "Is that squire on the fire?" he said, looking towards a man by a barrel fire on the street, the window pane blurring it so it looked as though the man himself were on fire.

LOTTIE: "Mercy, no, sir, look closer, you'll notice it's grocer."

TODD: "Looks thicker, more like vicar."

LOTTIE: "No, it has to be grocer. It's green!" he turned her away from the window and put a hand on her neck as they walked to the other side of the shop.

TODD: "The history of the world, my love,"

LOTTIE: "Save a lot of graves, do a lot of relatives favors?"

TODD: "Is those below serving those up above." he corrected her.

LOTTIE: "Everybody shaves so there should be plenty of flavors." they stopped and he placed his hands on her shoulders.

TODD: "How gratifying, for once, to know,"

BOTH: "That those above will serve those down below!" she said with a smile. Both of them understood well what is was like to have to suffer at the hands of the upper class just because they were on the lower half of the spectrum. They returned to looking out the window.

"What is _that_?" he asked her.

LOTTIE: "It's fop. Finest in the shop." she scurried over to the counter. "Or, we have some shepherd's pie peppered with actual shepherd on top, and I've just begun." he walked over to her and she placed and mushy, greasy pie into his hand. "Here's the politician so oily it's served with a doily, 'ave one!" he plopped it onto a plate.

TODD: "Put it on a bun. Well, you never know if it's going to run."

LOTTIE: "Try the friar, fried it's drier." she walked over to the table and picked up her bow, wiping the pie dust off her hands onto her old burgundy skirt before touching the hairs to make sure they were all in tact. She used to bow to point to certain pies on the counter.

TODD: "No, the clergy is really too coarse and too mealy." he picked up a large clever and examined it.

LOTTIE: "Then actor, that's compacter!"

TODD: "Ah, but always arrives overdone." he walked over to her and held the knife to her throat. "I'll come again when you have judge on the menu." he said, she had flinched at the clever but smiled at his words. They began to waltz again, the barber with the knife in one hand, the girl in the other, making sure the two didn't collide. Lottie held on to her bow."Have charity towards the world, my pet."

LOTTIE: "Yes, yes, I know, good sir."

TODD: "We'll take the customers that we can get!"

LOTTIE: "High born and low, good sir!"

The again returned to the window.

TODD: "We'll not discriminate great from small, no, we'l serve anyone,"

BOTH: "Meaning anyone, and to anyone at all!"


	17. God, That's Good!

Todd stood in his upstairs shop, somewhat relaxed and almost in a good mood, his tie was loosened and his sleeves rolled up, he was waiting. He watched eagerly as people came up to the shop, reading a sign that said "Mrs. Lovett's World Famous Meat Pies: Grand Re-Opening" as they passed. Toby stood at he door, welcoming people in.

TOBY: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! Are your nostrils aquiver and tingling as well at that delicate, lustrous, ambrosial smell? Yes they are, I can tell. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that aroma enriching the breeze is like nothing compared to it's succulent source, the gourmets among you will tell you, of course. Ladies and gentlemen, you can't imagine the rapture in store, just inside of this door!"

In the little side yard outside of the kitchen, a good sized lot of people were sitting, enjoying their people-pies and talking amongst themselves. Mrs. Lovett was floating about cheerfully, talking with her customers, dishing out pies. Toby was cleaning tables and serving drinks while Lottie sat on the railing of the stairway, playing her violin and doing a wonderful job of earning extra tips. Todd stood at the top of the stairs, watching it all.

TOBY: "There you'll sample Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, savory and sweet pies as you'll see. You who eat pies, Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, conjure up the treat pies used to be." Mrs. Lovett scurried out of the kitchen, a fresh tray of pies in her hand.

LOVETTT: "Toby!"

TOBY: "Coming!

LOVETT: "Ale there!"

TOBY: "Right, ma'am."

LOVETT: "Quick, now!" she placed the tray on a table and smiled at the woman sitting there. "Nice to see you, dearie, 'ow have you been keeping? Cor, me bones is weary, Toby! One for the gentleman. Hear that's Lottie playing, helps to keep it cheery. Toby, throw the old woman out!" she said pointed to an old, deranged beggar lady who was snooping around by the fence. Mrs. Lovett continued to mingle. "What's my secret? Frankly, dear, forgive my candor. Family secret, all to do with herbs. Things like being careful with your coriander, that's what makes the gravy grander!"

BOTH: "Eat them slow and feel the crust, how thin I/she rolled it, eat them slow, 'cause everyone's a prize. Eat them slow 'cause that's the lot and now we've sold it, come again tomorrow - hold it!" Mrs. Lovett said, midway through turning the "sold out" sign on her door. A man was walking up the stairs towards the barber shop, where Mr. Todd was eagerly waiting for him with a crooked smile.

LOVETT: "Bless my eyes!"

LOTTIE: "Fresh supplies!"

Lovett: "How about it, dearie? Be there in a twinkling, just confirms me theory, Lottie, God watches over us." she collected a portion of Lottie's tips, allowing her to keep the rest as she looked up at Todd, who was literally watching over them. "Didn't have an inkling, positively eerie, Toby, throw the old woman out!" Tony hurried inside to the front door, closing it shut in the old beggar's face.

* * *

~SOME OTHER DAY THAT WEEK~

A park in Hampstead. A nice, comfortable, cool breeze was blowing. The sun was shining just over the clouds, peaking through the trees. Toby was flying a handmade kite in the distance, while Lottie sat against a tree playing a warm tune on her instrument. She was wearing a shorter dress, her shoes kicked off and her hair let down since it didn't have to be kept out of her face for working in the shop. Todd sat in rapt contemplation on a blanket, Mrs. Lovett babbling endlessly to him.

"Still gotta keep an eye on 'ousehold expenditure." she said. he merely grunted in response, having no clue what was being said to him. "Which isn't to say we shouldn't get some nice taxidermy animals, bring a touch of gentility to the place. You know, a boar's head or two?" she looked at him and received no answer. "Mr. T, you listening to me?"

"Of course." he mumbled.

"Then what did I just say?" she asked. There was a pause.

"There must be a way to the judge..." he said. She rolled her eyes.

"The judge! Always harping on the bloody old judge. We've got a nice, respectable business now, money coming in regular-like. And since we're careful to pick and choose, strangers, people who won't be missed, who's gonna catch on?" she smiled at him. Lottie abruptly ended her song and began to rosin her bow. Mrs. Lovett sat upright, closer to Mr. Todd, kissing him on the cheek. He didn't even seem to notice.

LOVETT: "Ohh, Mr. Todd *kiss* I'm so happy *kiss* I could eat you up, I really could! You know what I'd like to do Mr. Todd *kiss* what I dream *kiss* is the business stas as good, where I'd really like to go in a year or so, don't you wanna know?"

"Of course." he muttered dryly.

LOVETT: "Do you really wanna know?"

"Yes. I do."

Mrs. Lovett began to day dream about her idea of the perfect life as she stared off into the clouds. She pictured a beach, Toby making a sand castle, Lottie sitting barefoot again, playing with the sand with her toes, and herself and Mr. Todd sitting together.

LOVETT: "By the sea, Mr. Todd, that's the life I covet, by the sea, Mr. Todd, ooh I know you'd love it! You an' me, Mr. T, we could be alone in a house what we'd almost own, down by the sea!"

TODD: "Anything you say."

LOVETT: "Wouldn't that be smashing?"

She then pictured a small seaside cottage, and herself sitting in a chair on the porch next to Todd, Toby sitting happily on the porch steps with a mug of tea and Lottie inside the open doorway, sweeping, since she had to be good for something.

LOVETT: "Think 'ow snug it'll be underneath our flannel when it's just you an' me an' the English channel."

She then imagined the inside of the house, with imaginary guests sitting at a table with her and Todd, who was staring at his feet.

LOVETT: "In our cozy retreat kept all neat and tidy, we'll have chums over every Friday by the sea! don't you love the weather?"

Her next fantasy was an elegant pier. She was walking arm in arm with Mr. Todd, Lottie leaning on the edge, looking over into the deep, dark water.

LOVETT: "By the sea, we'll grow old together, by the seaside, oh oh! By the beautiful sea! It'll be so quiet, that who'll come by it except a seagull? We shouldn't try it, though, till it's legal for two!"

She then pictured her wedding. She was in the loveliest dress she could imagine. Lottie was standing on the side with Toby. The two exchanged looks.

LOVETT: "But a seaside wedding could be devised, me rumpled bedding legitimized. Me eyelids'll flutter, I'll turn into butter the moment I mutter "I do"!" she turned to kiss Mr. Todd, who awkwardly pecked her once just to humor her. Her dream ended and she returned back to reality, sitting in between Toby and Todd on the blanket in Hampstead. Lottie was sitting off the Todd's right, feeling lonely as usual, and certainly not feeling like a part of this "family", nor did she want to be. She wanted Mr. Benjamin Barker, and her "mama", Lucy. But she'd have to be satisfied with what she had, and she accepted this.

LOVETT: "By the sea, married nice and proper. By the sea, bring along your chopper to the seaside, oh oh! To the beautiful sea!"


	18. Letter Sequence

Mrs. Lovett walked in.

Mr. Todd was was leaning against the window, looking out across the city, but seeing an entirely different view.

"Brought you some breakfast, dear." she said. He ignored her. "Mr. T, can I ask you a question?"

"What?" he mumbled.

"What did your Lucy look like?" she asked. There was a long pause. "Can't really remember, can you?"

"She had yellow hair." he said.

"You've got to leave this all behind, you know. She 's gone, and life is for the alive, my dear. We could have a life, us two. Maybe not like I dreamed. Maybe not like you remember. But we could get by." she said, hoping he was listening to her for once. He turned and looked at her, then looked at the daguerreotype on his table. One side was a picture of Lucy smiling, sitting with baby Johanna and the other side was Lucy standing, holding Johanna in one arm and holding a seven year old Lottie with a big toothy smile. Mrs. Lovett looked at him, hoping he was forgetting all this. Suddenly, Anthony Hope had rushed into the room, gasping to catch his breath.

"What is it, Anthony?"

"He has her locked in a madhouse."

"Johanna?"

"Fogg's Asylum. But there's no way in, I've circled the place a dozen times, it's a fortress!" he exclaimed. todd walked over to him, smiling. Mrs. Lovett felt like crying.

"I've got him." Todd whispered.

"What?" Anthony asked.

"We've got her. Where do you suppose all the wigmaker's of London go to obtain their hair? Bedlam. They get it from the lunatics at Bedlam."

"I don't understand."

"We shall set you up as a wigmaker. You can use Lottie as a decoy to help you escape. She can be your "apprentice". Come, we will write a letter arranging a visit." he looked to Mrs. Lovett. "Fetch the girl." she walked out without a word and Lottie came up a moment later. Anthony explained the entire idea to her as Todd wrote a quick letter. "We shall offer any price for hair the exact shade of Johanna's, which I trust you know." he said to Anthony.

"Uh..yellow."

"Not exact enough. We must make you two a believable wigmaker and apprentice and quickly."

TODD: "There's tawny and there's golden saffron, there's flaxen and there's blonde." he said to Anthony.

"Repeat that."

ANTHONY: "There's tawny and there's golden saffron, there's flaxen and there's blonde."

BOTH: "There's coarse, there's fine, there's straight and curly, there's grey, there's white as ashes..."

* * *

"There." Mr. Todd said as he observed Lottie. She was wearing a red vest of Anthony's, and an old shirt and pair of pinstripe pants that belonged to Mr. Todd. The sleeves went well past her hands and the pants gathered around her ankles, even though she wore a belt to keep them up. Her hair was tied on top of her head so a hat could later be placed on it. Todd rolled up her sleeves so it wouldn't be as obvious these were not her clothes. He took a messenger cap out of the pile of clothes they had gathered and stuck it on top of her head, hiding the fact that she had long hair. "You make a nice man." he said, then observed her again. She looked around awkwardly, clearly not very comfortable in such clothes. Todd took off his barbering coat and threw it around her shoulders. She slid it on and it almost fit, thanks to its shorter cut. "There. Perfect." He said. Anthony was reviewing what he was just taught on the other side of the room.

ANTHONY: "There's finer texture ash looks fair which makes it rare, but flaxen's rarer - "

"No, flaxen's cheaper." Todd corrected him as he straightened Lottie's hat. She tightened her belt.

"Flaxen's cheaper, not rarer." Anthony said to himself. Todd handed Lottie a single pistol.

"Wy does she get the pistol?"

"Because I can trust her. Now, be off with the two of you. And remember, when you've rescued Johanna, bring her here and I will guard her while you hire the chase to Plymouth."

"Right, sir! Thank you, thank you my friend!" Anthony said as he eagerly hurried out the door, Lottie following him. Todd shut the door behind them and heard a loud noise and assumed the girl had tripped on her pants and stumbled on the stairs. He went back to his desk and began a new letter. Toby walked in a few moments later.

"Mr. T?" he asked as he shut the door. Todd put his quill back in the ink and sealed his letter.

"Do you know where the Old Bailey is?"

"Yes, sir. Not that I ever been there."

"Take this there." he handed the child the letter. "Seek out a Judge Turpin, repeat that."

"Go to Old Bailey, find Judge Turpin."

"You put that into his hands, only to him, you understand?"

"Yes, sir. And while I'm out, do you mind if I - "

"No." Todd stood. Toby backed away from him, afraid. "You're not to stop, you're not to speak. You're to deliver the letter, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." the boy said before hurrying out the door.


	19. City On Fire

~FOGG'S ASYLUM~

The hallways were dark and dank, lit only by the occasional lantern. A scream was heard every now and then, otherwise the only sounds were those of Anthony and Lottie's footsteps as they followed Mr. Fogg.

"Yes, sir, I agree. It would be to our mutual interest to come to some arrangement in regard to my poor children's hair." the man said. The two behind him remained silent, Lottie walked with her head down, trying to avoid any visual contact with Mr. Fogg.

"Brunettes." he said as they passed a door. A bunch of girls looked at them through the window as they passed, silent as can be. "Redheads, and I keep the blondes in here. It was yellow hair you was looking for, sir?"

"Yes." Anthony said to him. The man pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. The two followed him in, watching as girls backed away and cried in fear at them. "That one there has the shade I need." he said, stopping Mr. Fogg to point to Johanna, who was sitting alone and silent in the corner. Fogg turned and looked at Johanna.

"Come, child. Smile for the gentlemen and you shall have a sweetie. Now, where shall I cut?" he said as he raised his scissors to Johanna, he trembled in fear. Suddenly, Lottie raised her head, whipped out the pistol Todd had given her, cocked it, and aimed it directly at Mr. Fogg's chest.

"Not another word, Mr. Fogg, or it will be your last." she said sternly, though her voice still revealed she was a woman. The man backed away in surprise and held his hands up. Anthony took Johanna by the arm and led her towards the door. Lottie followed, keeping the pistol on him at all times. "Now, we leave you to the mercy of your "children"..." she said as they hurried out the door.

* * *

Back at the shop, Mrs. Lovett was walking briskly down the stairs, Mr. Todd not far behind.

"I've got him locked in, but if he escapes, he'll go to the law." she said in regard to having earlier managed to lock Toby in the bakehouse downstairs.

"He won't escape." Todd said cockily.

"I don't know, Mr. Todd." she said, stopping at the bottom of the staircase by the door.

"The Judge'll be here son - " he stopped himself as the door opened behind them. Mrs. Lovett spun around and jumped, startled. The Beadle was standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me, sir. Gave me a fright." she said merrily. The Beadle smiled at her.

"Not my intention, good madame, I assure you. Though I am here on official business. You see, there's been some complaints about the stink from your chimney, they say at night it is something most foul. Health regulations and the general public welfare naturally being my duty, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to take a look at your bakehouse." he said. Mrs. Lovett looked to Mr. Todd.

"Of course, sir." he said. "But first, why don't you come upstairs, let me pamper you?"

"As much as I do appreciate tonsorial doormen, I really need to see to my official obligations first." The Beadle turned to go downstairs, but Todd stopped him.

"I completely understand." he paused, looking at him. "If you'll indulge me, sir, what is that exotic aroma?"

"Me secret is a touch of ambergris." Beadle Bamford said to him, becoming more and more interested in what he ad to offer.

"Dare I offer you something a tad more appropriate for a gentleman of your standing? The ladies'll greatly appreciate it, sir."

Beadle Bamford paused. "

"Well, you are the expert in these matters."

"Only take a moment." Todd said with a kind smile. He led the Beadle upstairs.

* * *

"Run!" Anthony shouted. The rain fell harder and harder upon them with each step. They had managed to break Johanna free of the asylum and dress her in spare men's clothing similar to Lottie, hoping to confuse the asylum guards that were now chasing them down the street. One of the two guards had even caught up to Lottie and grabbed hold of her, but she was able to slip out of Mr. Todd's coat before he could grab her and she escaped with Anthony and Johanna. As they passed, poor, working class people on the street watched them.

POOR: "City on fire! Rats in the grass and the lunatics yelling in the streets! It's the end of the world! Yes! City on fire! Hunchbacks dancing! Stirrings in the ground and the whirring of giant wings! Watch out! Look! Blotting out the moonlight, thick black rain falling on the city on fire! City on fire! City on fire!"

They rounded the corner of a building and stopped to catch their breath and listen for the guards. They looked to see the shop not too far ahead, it was within reach. "That was close. Anthony said quietly to them as they started off after feeling certain they had lost the guards. Suddenly, Lottie let out a short screech. Anthony and Johanna stopped to turn around and see what was the matter when a guard had appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her by the neck, believing her to be Johanna. Before anyone could say a word, or even think about what just happened, the guard whipped out a dagger and stabbed Lottie twice in the side and below her ribs. She collapsed backward into the guards arm and her hat fell off, revealing her face. The guard's smile quickly faded.

"Oh no. I've got the wrong girl. I've got the wrong...I killed..." he stuttered before leaving Lottie on the street and running off.

"Johanna, you keep going. I'll meet up with you." the girl nodded and continued running towards the end of Fleet Street. "Lottie!" Anthony rushed to her side and picked her up gently, holding her in his lap. "Lottie - " he stopped when he saw the wounds inflicted upon her. They somewhat resembled the scars Todd had made on her face that had only begun to heal. The girl was breathing shallowly, fighting to stay alive. She was bleeding heavily from both gashes on her body. Anthony held her close to him, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. The rain had slowed and was falling only moderately now.

"Anthony - "

"Oh, Lottie." he said, his hands beginning to tremble from the shock of what had just happened.

LOTTIE: "Don't you fret, my friend Anthony. I don't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." she said weakly. "You're here, that's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close. And rain will make the flowers grow."

"No. No, you'll be alright, Lottie. I'll bring you home." Lottie silenced him.

LOTTIE: "Just hold me now and let it be. Comfort me, shelter me."

ANTHONY: "You would live a hundred years if I could show you how. I won't desert you now."

LOTTIE: "The rain can't hurt me now. This rain will wash away what's past." she said, giving a weak, quick smile as he rain gently trickled against her face. "And you will keep me safe, and you will keep me close, I'll sleep. In your embrace, at last. The rain that brings you here is Heaven-blessed. The sky begins to clear, and I'm at rest. A breath away from where they are," she said, thinking of her mother in heaven. "I've come home from so far." she jerked at the pain that came from breathing and Anthony held onto his friend. He placed a hand on her head and held her closely. "So don't you fret, my friend Anthony,"

ANTHONY: "Hushabye, Dear Lottie,"

BOTH: "I/You don't/won't feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me/you now."

ANTHONY: "I'm here."

LOTTIE: "That's all I need to know. And you will keep me safe,"

ANTHONY: "I'll stay with you till you are sleeping."

LOTTIE: "And you will keep me close. And rain,"

ANTHONY: "And rain,"

BOTH: "Will make the flowers..."

ANTHONY: "Grow." he said for her as she died in his arms.


	20. Turpin's Death

The sounds of more guards coming back were heard not far off. Anthony was forced to leave Lottie. He hurried into the shop.

"Mr. Todd!" he shouted when he walked in, only to find Johanna standing alone. He sighed, frustrated. "You wait for him here. I'll return with a coach in less than half an hour. Don't worry, no one will recognize you. You're safe now." Johanna looked up at him as he spoke.

"She died for me. She died to save me, so I could have my freedom and live happily ever after." she muttered.

"She was a good friend, Johanna. Of both mine and Mr. Todd's. Everything happens for a reason, though I do miss her terribly. She won't be forgotten, don't worry."

"What? So we run away and all our dreams come true?"

Anthony sighed. "I hope so."

"I've never had dreams. Only nightmares. I'm sure she had dreams."

"For her entire life, Lottie was a very sad, lonely girl. She's safe now. With her mother. And when we're free of this place, all the ghosts will go away."

"No, Anthony. They never go away."

"I'll be right back to you. Half an hour and we'll be free." he said before hurrying out the door.

* * *

Little did Anthony know, the footsteps that he believed belonged to guards coming back were actually Mr. Todd's, he had come out and around the corner of the shop to see what the noise was about. He walked briskly, a razor in hand, ready for anyone in the way of his plans. He stopped when he turned around the corner. There was Lottie, Little demure Lottie Finch lying on the street,the rain creating a pool of blood. He knelt down beside her and saw that she was dead. There were too large gashes in her sides where she was clearly stabbed, by no one other than someone chasing them from the asylum. This girl died to save his daughter.

He carefully picked her up and carried her back to the shop. He brought her inside the parlor and lay her down gently on the loveseat. He knelt down beside her, making one final check to see that she was, in fact, dead. He rested his hand on the side of her face, hoping she was at peace at last, and that all the monsters that had haunted her childhood were gone, and that she could be with her mother now. There was a soft thud coming from the room above him, and although he knew he shouldn't leave Lottie, he needed to make sure his plan hadn't been foiled. He took a moment to brush her hair out of her face, then gently kiss her forehead, before going upstairs to finish what he had started.

He hurried upstairs to find not the judge, or Anthony, or Johanna, but the crazed beggar woman who had been wandering around the shop lately.

"Who are you? What are you doing 'ere?" he asked, stifling his anger.

"Evil is 'ere, sir. The stink of evil, from bloew! From her! Oh, she's the devil's wife. She, with no pity in her heart...hey, don't I know you, Mister - ?"

"Mr. Todd!" the judge's voice was heard from the street. He had to think fast and get this woman out of here. He whipped out his razor and swung it across her throat, blod rapidly seeping down her neck. He hit the pedal on his chair and she fell into the bakehouse below via trap door. The judge bursted in. Where is she!"

Todd thought up a quick lie, and was hoping the judge would think nothing of Lottie's blood on his shirt sleeve and hands. "Below, your honor. With my neighbor. Thank God the sailor did not molest her, and thank God too, she has seen the error of her ways." he said. The Judge's face softened.

"She has?"

"Oh yes. She speaks only of you. Longing for forgiveness."

"Then she shall have it. She'll be here soon, I hope."

"Yes."

"Excellent, my friend!" there was a pause as Todd thought how should ask his question.

"How bout a shave?" he said with an enthusiastic smile. The judge looked reluctant, but Todd led him to the chair. "Sit, sir, sit." The judge did so and Todd removed his necktie and replaced it with a cloth. He pulled out his razor and held it up to the window, watching it reflect the moonlight.

"How seldom it is, one meets a fellow spirit." the judge said.

"With fellow tastes in women, at least."

"What's that?" Turpin said with a nervous chuckle.

"The years, no doubt, have changed me, sir." Todd turned to to him. "But then, I suppose the face of a barber, a prisoner, a dog, is not particularly memorable." he said, ine hand supporting him against the head of the chair, the other holding his razor high behind him. The judge looked at him. Todd smiled, the judge did not.

"Benjamin Barker." he said angrily.

"BENJAMIN BARKER!" he shouted the name back to him before stabbing him in the throat with the end of his razor. That was for Lottie. He repeatedly stabbed him, again and again. For Johanna. There was blood everywhere, on his face, in his eyes, staining his hair and his clothes, on the chair, on the floor, on the window. He walked around slowly to the front of the judge, like a tiger and its prey. He finished him off by slitting his throat viciously. For Lucy. He slammed his foot on the pedal and watched as Turpin's body slid down into the Hell below. He sighed, caught his breath, and reveled in the sweet taste of revenge. He turned to the window and saw, sitting peacefully on the crate under the window sill, was Lottie's violin and bow, speckled and streaked with blood. He knelt down and set his razor beside the beautiful instrument.

TODD: "Rest now, my friend. Rest now, forever. Sleep now, the untroubled, sleep of the angels - " he stopped when he heard a soft creaking noise from the corner of the room. He turned and saw the top of the trunk was open ajar, a pair of eyes peering out. He picked up the razor he had just told to rest and walked over, lifting the top without any hesitation, to find a young man hiding in it. "Come for a shave, have you lad?" Johanna stuttered for words as this crazed man, covered from head to waist in blood, dragged her out of her hiding spot and into the barber's chair. "Everyone needs a good shave." he said as he lifted his razor to kill her. Suddenly, a deafening scream was heard from down below. He turned to the girl, whom he didn't even think to be Johanna, and looked her in the eye. "Forget my face." he ordered before sprinting out of the room.


	21. Learn Forgiveness Never Forget

He hurried into the bakehouse.

"Why did you scream?" he asked Mrs. Lovett, who was trying desperately to drag a body to the furnace, but wasn't strong enough.

"Oh, it was clutching onto me dress, but it's finished now."

He walked up to her.

"I'll take care of it. Open the door." he asked. She ignored him. "Open the door, I said!" he snapped at her. She let go of the body and meandered over to the oven, opening the door. He rolled up his flames cast a light across the floor, revealing the body of the beggar woman. He looked at the body, then knelt down beside it and brushed the ragged hair out of her face, then turned her over to see her face. "Don't I know you", she said". he muttered as he looked into the face of his dead wife. "You knew she lived." he said to Mrs. Lovett without looking up at her.

"I was only thinking of you." she said. He looked up at her.

"You lied to me."

LOVETT: "No, no, not lied at all. No I never lied."

TODD: "Lucy..."

LOVETT: "Said she took a poison, she did, never said that she died."

TODD: "I've come home again..."

LOVETT: "Poor thing, she lived, but it left her weak in the head, all she did for months was just lie there in bed, poor thing, should've been in hospital wound up in Bedlam instead, poor thing!"

TODD: "Lucy...oh my God..." he stood slowly, suddenly feeling slightly dizzy.

LOVETT: "Better you should think she was dead, yes, I lied, 'cause I love you! I'd be twice the wife she was, I love you!"

TODD: "Lucy, what have I done?"

LOVETT: "Could that thing have cared for you like me?"

He suddenly spun around to face her, and starting advancing slowly on her. Her eyes were filled with fear as she backed away from him, into the wall. He smiled devilishly.

TODD: "Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder, eminently practical, and yet appropriate as always, as you've said repeatedly, there's litte point in dwelling on the past, no come here, my love."

LOVETT: "Do you mean it? Everything I did, I swear, I thought was only for the best."

TODD: "Not a thing ot fear, my love, what's dead, is dead."

LOVETT: "Can we still be married?" she asked. He grabbed her and began to waltz maniacally with her across the room.

TODD: "The history of the world, my pet,"

LOVETT: "Oh, Mr. TOdd, oh, Mr. Todd, leave it to me."

TODD: "Is learn forgiveness and try to forget!"

LOVETT: "By the sea, Mr. Todd, we'll be comfy cozy, by the sea, Mr. Todd, where there's no one nosy."

TODD: "And life is for the alive, my dear, so let's keep living it!"

BOTH: "Just keep living it! Really living it!"

Unbeknownst to her, he had led her straight to the furnace, where he threw her body in. She screamed in pain as her body was quickly consumed by the fire. He shut the door and locked her in, listening to her final, dying screams. Her turned away, glad she was gone, but when he looked at his wife's body, his heart sank. He purposely dropped his razor, it clanked against the stone floor. He walked over to her, sat by her side and gently picked her body up and cradled her in his lap.

TODD: "There was a barber and his wife, and she was beautiful. A foolish barber and his wife, she was his reason and his life, and she was beautiful..." he heard the grate that led to the sewer open behind him, and then soft footsteps. Toby was walking up from behind him, and he knew what that meant. He told Mrs. Lovett he wouldn't let anyone harm her while he was around, and he meant it.

TODD: "And she was virtuous, and he was..." he lifted his head, exposing his neck, waiting. Toby slit his throat with his own razor, blood draining from him along with his life. Toby disappeared out the door and Todd sat, slowly and painfully dying, reunited with his wife once more in death.


End file.
